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Authors: Jill Myles

Wicked Games (13 page)

BOOK: Wicked Games
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The hand that caressed my backside grew possessive again, and Dean clenched me against him, pulling my hips against his hard cock and letting me feel the length of it against the cradle of my sex. I whimpered into his mouth at the sensation, and he only groaned harder, rolling me onto my back and rolling atop me, his hips sliding against my own. His leg nudged between mine, and I suddenly found myself with my legs spread wide underneath him, his cock resting against my mound with scorching heat, his mouth devouring my own. Excited by that, I rose my hips slightly, bucking against him in a suggestive manner.

“Oh Jeezus, Abby. God help me when you do that,” Dean said hoarsely against my mouth, his hand sliding over my torso frantically.

In response, I swirled my hips against his again. “Don’t tell me what to do, Dean. You know I’ll just prove you wrong,” I teased, and nipped against his bottom lip.

He groaned again, sliding down my body slightly to rest his head on my sarong-covered stomach. He bit at the fabric, at my flat stomach underneath, and then slid down further, bunching the fabric up around my waist as he went.

“Dean,” I squeaked, shifting as his breath fanned hot on the most intimate part of my body. “Are you sure you want to...” my voice trailed off. I wasn’t used to the oral sex for me before I went down on my partner. Normally it was the other way around – I’d give out a dozen blowjobs long before my date would ever think of reciprocating. Not to mention, other than the shower last night, I’d been the most unkempt I’d ever been in my life. The urge to cross my legs was strong – but that would have trapped Dean’s shoulders right where he wanted them.

In response to my worries, Dean licked the seam of my thigh, and a full-body, delicious shudder went through me. “You okay, Abby? Do you want me to stop?”

I sure didn’t. My fingers twined in his messy hair and I let my legs slide open, bonelessly. “Hell no. Don’t stop.”

Dean chuckled, and the sound whispered across sensitive skin, and I sucked in a breath again. “You want me to keep going?” His thumb moved down my slit, and I bit my lip to keep from gasping. And when I gave him no response to his touch, he moved in. His mouth, hot and wet, found the sensitive bud of my clit, and I was lost. My entire body shuddered with every tongue flick, with every sucking motion, every rasp of his tongue.

Hips bucking in time with the swirl of his mouth, my legs began to tense with the onset of a powerful orgasm, and I panicked and began to pull away, self-conscious. In response to that, Dean locked his hands around me and pushed back, tonguing me so hard I swore I felt it down to my bones. With a gasping cry, I came in his arms, shudders wracking me as he continued to lap at me as if I were his breakfast, and he had all the time in the world.

“Oh my god,” I breathed, unable to resist rotating my hips with his mouth one more time.

“Call me Dean,” he teased, sliding up back over me and grinning as if he’d just been the one to fall to pieces, not me. His hand smoothed up and down over my hip, sliding into my sarong to tickle the tip of my breast. “Ready for round two, or do you need a breather?”

I gave him a puzzled look. “Why would I need a breather?”

The expression on Dean’s face was downright innocent. “Shanna told me you weren’t in great shape and I—“

My fists flew at him and I laughed, even as he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me toward him. I went easily, linking my arms around his neck and moving in for another deep kiss. I could taste myself on his mouth, a salty tang. “You are the sweetest thing, Abby. Like you were dipped in honey.”

It was a terribly corny line. Sweet, but corny. I still fell for it. With a wicked grin, I gave him a push, indicating he should lay back on the bed. Dean did so, trying to pull me over him, but I wiggled away, pressing my palms on his chest to hold him down. “My turn.” I slid down his body.

Dean froze under me, and I could see the wheels turning in his mind as he went over our conversation, trying to figure out if he’d suggested that I reciprocate on him. “Abby,” he began, then licked his lips, his breath coming out in a little pant. “I didn’t mean...you don’t have to...”

“I know,” I said, sliding down until I straddled his calves. “Now shut up.” I leaned forward, the tips of my breasts brushing against the hair on his legs. Dean groaned low in his throat, his hand sliding to my hair and twining there. Not pushing my head towards his cock, but a simple gesture of need. It was something I wanted to do, though – I wanted to drive him crazy as much as he’d driven me, and so I knelt over him, letting my hair fall against the thick length of his cock. His skin smelled musky so close to mine, and the scent of it sent a ripple through my body.

I grasped him in my hand, testing the heavy length. Hot and rigid, his cock was a sheath of silk over firm muscle, and I leaned over, fascinated, to dip my tongue against the head of it.

Dean groaned loudly, his hips jerking.

My, that was encouraging. I smiled at that – what fun. Slowly, languidly, as if I were licking an ice cream, I teased the head of his cock. Small, teasing licks. Deep, sensual licks. Playful, swirling licks. Drops of wetness appeared on the head, and I licked those off as well, then circled my thumb against the tip of his cock while I laved up and down the thick length.

His fist in my hair grew tighter as the minutes passed. “Jesus, Abby,” he groaned at one point. “Have mercy.”

“I have none,” I teased, nipping lightly at the thick vein on the underside of his cock. Gently, with my lips and tongue alone. Then, with slow, languid motions, I circled the base of it with my fingers and slid my mouth over the rest of it, taking the length of him deep into my mouth.

“Christ,” he exploded, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me off of him. I laughed until he tossed me underneath him, sliding my hips apart, and I thought he was going to plunge into me right then and there, and my breath caught in my throat. But he only pushed me down onto the bed and pressed a kiss to my mouth. “Wait here,” he said against my lips, and I squirmed on the bed, waiting, as he disappeared into the bathroom and returned a moment later with a condom.

And then he was down over my body again, and kissing my face and neck as the condom crinkled between our bodies, and I watched him roll it down over his cock. He leaned in for one last kiss before nudging the head of his cock against my sex, then sinking deeply. I sucked in a deep breath even as he growled above me, hands grasping my hips sharply as he pulled back and then plunged again.

“Sexy little Abby in her pink bikini,” he said in a low, growly voice even as thrust again. “Thank god you picked me again. It’d been a real shame—“ A hard, rocking thrust – “ if you never showed me that sweet little body of yours.” Another rough thrust, one that made my breath catch in my throat.

I gave him a throaty laugh, my hips rising to meet each thrust, legs locked around his waist. “You’re the one... that walked into my shower...remember?”

He grinned at that, and gave me another slow, rocking thrust and leaned forward, stretching my legs wide as he leaned in to kiss me. “I surely do,” he drawled, taking my ankle and hooking it behind his neck, and thrusting again with that slow, sensuous motion that was going to twist me into one big orgasmic knot. Again he thrust, and again, and my body arched slightly higher with each silken stroke. And when one of his hands that had been gripping my hip slipped free and sought the damp curls of my sex, I moaned his name and dug my fingernails into his shoulder as I came, shuddering. After that, Dean seemed to lose all control, thrusting relentlessly into my body until he was racked by shudders as well, a hoarse shout on his lips as he came, collapsing over me.

I pressed a kiss to his scratchy face with its two-week growth of dark blonde beard. “Think we can stay here forever?”

He chuckled at that, propping up on his elbows so he didn’t crush me under his weight and brushing a damp lock of hair off of my forehead. “We can’t stay here. If we don’t go back, we don’t win the money.”

Oh yes, the money. I made a face against the warm heat of his chest wall. The money that the producers would make sure that I would not get. The money that was Dean’s driving urge to be here. For some reason, that made me a little sad – the others had seemed greedy and driven, but for some reason I’d held Dean to a different standard. I shrugged my shoulders against his damp body, listening to the racing of his heart as it slowed down. I hadn’t given the money much thought in the past few days – my mind was consumed with the blonde god that I shared my beach with.

“Besides,” he whispered against my forehead, pressing a kiss to my eyebrow. “If we don’t get up now, we don’t get to eat our breakfast.”

I jumped at that, wriggling out from underneath him and straightening my sarong. It had fallen apart on me, and I re-wrapped it as I moved toward the door “Breakfast?”

Dean laughed behind me. “Thrown over for pancakes and bacon. Figures.”

“Oh my god, they have bacon?” I squealed, running forward. “Bacon and showers. I’m the luckiest girl ever.”

“And a hot guy in your bed,” Dean prompted, moving to pick a sausage link off the table and closing his eyes with delight at the taste. “Okay, never mind – the food is better than sex.”

I laughed, grabbing one of the pancakes – no syrup – and waving it at him. “You’re just saying this because you want me to stuff a couple of pancakes down my bra.”

His eyes lit up at the same time mine did.

~*~

 

After one more quick shower and a hasty re-dressing, the production crew knocked on our door. I moved slowly after Dean as they led us back to the helicopter, my bra stuffed with pancakes and a makeshift napkin-padded baggy of cold sausage and cheeses down the front of my bikini bottom. It was kind of disgusting if you sat and thought about it, but when you were starving, you did what you had to do – and that included sneaking food back to the island in your panties. Luckily, my sarong was heavily wrinkled and voluminous and hid everything.

I felt a keen sense of disappointment when the boat pulled up to shore and our camp came into view. I didn’t want to go back – back to biting bugs and sand in everything and no showers and starving. But Dean squeezed my hand as we got off the boat, and I followed behind him because I wasn’t quite ready to leave him just yet, either. No matter how much of a knee-jerk reaction I had to returning to the island.

A camera-man circled nearby as we trudged back to our beach, me with my arm crossed over my chest to keep my pancakes in place, my other hand still firmly latched into Dean’s. To my surprise, two people sat at our camp on our chairs (well, logs that passed as chairs). “Are they filming?” I asked Dean, squinting my eyes. I couldn’t see cameras with them. The sun was high in the sky, nearly blinding me, but I couldn’t raise my arm to shield my eyes or risk losing my pancakes.

His steps slowed in front of me, to the point that I almost ran into his back. “It’s Lana...and Leon, if I’m judging by the tattoos.”

Lana and...Leon? I felt a surge of disappointment, though I kept it out of my voice. “Oh? What about Will?”

“I don’t see him.” Dean didn’t sound thrilled either, but his voice remained even, and he raised a hand to wave at them, even as he spoke to me. “Did you hide the peanut butter before we left?”

“Yeah – I buried it. Just in case.”

He glanced back at me and touched my cheek. “Good girl.” He seemed as if he wanted to do more, but then Dean released my hand and put his hands on my shoulders, his gaze flicking to my sarong. “Still got the food?”

I nodded.

“Still trust me?” He searched my face, a little anxious. “Because you’re not going to like my suggestion.”

I gave him a faint smile. “This involves our pancakes, doesn’t it?”

Dean winked at me, and my heart sank when he said, “If we share with Lana, it’ll cement our alliance. I’ll buy you pancakes every morning if one of us wins the millions.”

Yeah, but only one of us could win and it wasn’t going to be me. Still, I was full from dinner and the breakfast this morning, and Lana was starting to look downright bony. I wouldn’t have been able to eat in front of her anyhow. So I just gave Dean’s hand a squeeze and nodded.

We approached the others and Lana gave a happy squeal of delight at the sight of us, extending her arms out and crossing the beach to hug us. “Dean! Abby! Look at you both! You’re so clean!”

Leon followed a few steps behind her, clearly not as comfortable, but willing to fake it. He held a hand out to Dean and they shook, clapping each other on the shoulder in a warm greeting. Lana hugged me and when Leon moved forward to do the same, I took a step backward and began to fish the pancakes out of my top.

“Abby brought food back for you,” Dean explained, glancing over at me. “She smuggled it in.”

Lana’s hands flew to her head. “Oh my god.” Her eyes went wide. “You’re kidding me. Food?”

I pulled out the pancakes and handed two to her, the other two to Leon. It was a little bizarre, since the pancakes were still warm from being cradled against my skin. “This is the only way we could think to smuggle them out,” I said, but my words fell on deaf ears. Both Lana and Leon had crammed their mouths full before I could even finish the sentence.

Of course, if I’d been in their position, I’d probably have done the same thing. What was a little body rubbing when you were starving?

I thought their eyes were going to roll out of their heads when I reached under my sarong and pulled out the second package – sausage links and cold bacon, quadruple-wrapped in fabric napkins from the table.

“Was that where I think it was?” Leon asked in-between bites of pancake.

“I wrapped it nice and tight, so it’s not like it really touched me,” I said, pulling the fabric layers away to demonstrate.

“If you guys don’t want to eat it, I will. I certainly don’t mind where it’s been,” Dean offered.

For some reason, that made my face flare bright red, and I averted my eyes as Lana’s gaze widened on me, then flicked back to Dean, then back to me again.

The last of the food was divvied up, and Dean and I watched as Lana and Leon made short work of the remaining sausages and cheese. When the food was gone, Lana licked her fingertip and retrieved every crumb from the bag, and we laughed at the sight. Strangely enough, that small bit of food bonded us, and there were smiles on all of our faces by the time Lana licked her thumb and gave one final sigh.

BOOK: Wicked Games
2.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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