Exposed to You (17 page)

“I’ll buy you twenty more like them. And a couple cartons of bug repellent along with them,” he muttered as he hurriedly helped her with her other shoe.

“That’s not what I—” She swallowed thickly when he stood, steadied her with one arm and urged her to lift her leg again. A moment and some maneuvering later, she stood before him on the rock, the back of her leg resting on his shoulders.

She was damn well doing a split standing up, Joy realized.

Everett held her steady with one hand at her waist and pushed his cock into her widely spread slit with his other. He’d found the ideal angle for entry by standing her on the rock.

“Aw, Jesus,” he muttered as he slid into her, his jaw clenched hard. His other hand shifted to her hips, balancing her in their precarious stance. “Don’t ever let me make fun of you for stretching again.” He thrust. They both groaned. The unusual position was making for a tight, highly stimulating ride. “I love your long, flexible legs,” he muttered as their pelvises slapped together, the blows sending ripples of sensation through her flesh. She grasped his shoulders desperately, sensing the storm approaching in his hot eyes. She cried out sharply when he slid the length of his cock out of her and thrust it back into her with one long, swift stroke, their bodies smacking together, his hands on the back of her waist and hip, absorbing some of the blow. “I adore your nipples,” he added, watching the way her breasts trembled at the impact each time he drove into her. Her vagina was stretched so tight, every time he withdrew she felt the drag of the thick ridge beneath the head of his cock. Her nerves protested and purred in pleasure at once. He powered into her again and groaned gutturally. “I
worship
your tight, wet little pussy,” he grated out.

Dappled sunlight played across his rippling shoulder muscles and her clutching hands, a jay squawked loudly in the tree above them and Joy’s senses swam in a rough, choppy sea of pleasure. The tight, wild expression on Everett’s face as he fucked her was scored on her consciousness.

Had she ever given herself so completely as he did at that moment?

Was she even capable of it?

He drove into her, his teeth bared in primal pleasure, and met her stare. Their gazes remained locked, a steady lifeline in a barraging, surging sea of sensation.

It was fucking, pure and simple, two animals succumbing to the dictates of nature.

It was more—much more—and that knowledge burned her as much as Everett’s pounding cock.

Come,
she mouthed silently, a drop of sweat trickling between her lips. The angle wasn’t ideal for her to reach climax, but she could tell from Everett’s expression it was perfect for him.

His cock swelled large and high inside her. The muscle in his cheek jumped as he stared at her, his eyes like burning, gleaming crescents. He jerked his hips, his fingers digging into her waist and hip. She cried out sharply in a mixture of discomfort, pleasure and awe, feeling him spasm deep inside her, hearing his anguished groan of climax. It continued for several seconds until he drew breath sharply, flexing his hips, his moan coming to an abrupt halt. His muscles contracted in another seizure of bliss.

“Christ,” he said a moment later when he withdrew from her, grimacing, his gaze flickering over her face. “Shit. I’m always making you cry. Are you okay?” he whispered, his lips tenderly touching her damp cheek.

She whimpered when he took her into a one-armed hug, one hand slipping between her thighs. This time, his touch was gentle, soothing, but no less arousing.

“I’m not hurting, Everett,” she whispered, her lips feverishly tracing his goatee, her hips moving in a subtle rhythm next to his pleasuring hand.

She couldn’t tell him what had been the reason for her tears. She couldn’t, because she herself didn’t know the reason for their existence.

Twelve

A strange, wonderful bubble of euphoria seemed to surround Joy as she and Everett swam again after making love. They walked instead of running home, holding hands, enjoying the beautiful scenery of the forest and each other’s company. The woods seemed brimful of energy, and Joy rejoiced in those moments that she was at one with the wildlife, exquisitely aware of the compelling man next to her and the wonder of being alive.

When they arrived back at the guest cottage, sticky and sweaty but smiling, it was late morning.

“Do you want to get in the shower first?” Everett asked.

Joy looked around from where she stood at the sink, filling a glass with water. There had been something in Everett’s tone that had caught her attention. She couldn’t read anything from his impassive expression, though.

“No, you go ahead. I need to take a couple vitamins with a protein bar,” she said.

He merely nodded once and walked away. She shut off the water slowly. Had that been a flash of disappointment she’d seen on his face before he turned? She recalled their interaction last night, how that moment of awkwardness and discomfort had hit her after they’d made love so lustily and how she’d avoided getting in the shower with him.

A few minutes later, she walked into the bathroom naked. She rapped softly on the frosted glass door of the shower. Everett immediately opened it.

Warm steam billowed out around her. Everett looked out at her, his slick, naked torso covered with soapy lather.

“Can I join you?” she asked quietly.

“By all means,” he said, looking pleased. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the delicious heat with him. The spraying hot water felt wonderful on her lower back and bottom.

The sensation of Everett taking her into his arms and rubbing his lathered, smooth skin against her own felt even better.

“What are you doing?” she asked, giggling when he slid himself up and down more exuberantly against her.

“I’m all soaped up. I’m washing you,” he teased, his mouth close to her ear. He leaned down and kissed her neck where it met her shoulder. She shivered despite the heat. “You’re a sweaty mess,” he told her, his gruff, sexy tone at odds with his words.

“You’re such a flatterer,” she murmured, twisting her chin to find his mouth. They fused in a kiss that was nearly as steamy as the shower. Their mouths clung for languorous, delicious moments while Everett used the soap in his hand to clean her back and ass and subtly twisted his lathered torso against her to clean her front.

She broke their kiss and stared up at him. Her lips parted when he slicked his fingers between the crack of her ass and then gently lathered her outer sex. He just pinned her with his laser-like stare as he lathered and then thoroughly rinsed her with water. It felt incredibly intimate . . . exceptionally good.

“Hmmm,” he mused, his hand moving between her thighs. “Having some difficulty washing away all this cream.”

Joy felt her cheeks heating from the inside instead of from the billowing steam. She was very wet, both from their former lovemaking and from his current stimulation on her pussy as he cleaned her.

He suddenly surprised her by sitting down on one of the benches at the side of the shower and pulling her toward him, his hands on her hips, her back facing him.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’ve decided the last thing I want to do is wash away something so sweet,” she heard him say. He urged her to move between his long, bent legs. “Bend over. Put your hands on your knees and arch your back. I want to suck on your pussy, but you have to put it up next to my mouth.”

Pausing in the action of bending over, she glanced around in amazement at the rest of his instructions. She froze at the sight of his small, sexy smile and the gleam of arousal in his eyes.

“You asked to come into my shower. My territory. My rules,” he teased.

“I’ll remember that,” she said wryly, bending over farther.

“I hope so.”

He placed both hands on her ass, and she forgot to give him a repressive glance for his cockiness. Instead, she strove to do what he’d asked, looking over her shoulder to gauge approximately where his mouth was. She arched her back and sent her tailbone up higher. He gave a gratified grunt.

“Beautiful,” he said, stroking her bottom. He parted her ass cheeks. Joy felt her delicate tissues being exposed to the warm air. Her clit burned.

“I can’t wait to sink my tongue into you. But you’re going to have to come just an inch closer . . .”

Suddenly desperate to have his mouth on her, she sent her tailbone higher, her thighs tensing hard. She imagined there was a string jerking her rear end up toward the ceiling.

“That’s it. God, you’re a sight to see,” she heard him say thickly.

With no further ado, he sunk his tongue directly into her slit. It felt decadently erotic, standing there bent over, steam surrounding her and hot water splashing against her shoulder and back, while Everett tongue-fucked her. He squeezed her ass cheeks in his palms, spreading her wide for his consumption. She moaned uncontrollably. He lifted a hand, popping her bottom.

Her clit went from a burn to a sizzle.

As if Everett had known her response to his spanking, he swatted her again, the contact sounding brisk and volatile because of their wet skin. His tongue snaked between her thighs, lashing at her clit. He laved the sizzling flesh hard while he spanked her again and again, the sound of slapping flesh going off like gunfire in the closed-off space.

Joy wailed in pleasure. Her thighs began to tremor at the effort of holding the difficult position. The pain of tensing her muscles so rigidly spiked into her awareness, but nothing could compare with Everett’s talented, lashing tongue. She sensed her release, tensing even harder, pressing against him, ignoring the protest of her muscles. Just when she was on the edge of climax, his mouth was suddenly gone.

She cried out in disorientation.

“Shh,” Everett hushed from behind her, even though his voice sounded too tense to be really soothing. He pulled her down into his lap with a wet slapping noise. Her eyes sprang wide when she felt his rigid erection throbbing next to her ass, wedged between a buttock and his abdomen. “Lean over and touched your toes,” he rasped. “Do it, Joy,” he said, his voice breaking through the drugged haze of her arousal.

He held her bottom in his lap with one hand. She leaned forward so that her breasts crushed against her thighs and her fingers touched her feet. She sat in Everett’s lap, her cheek pressed against her leg, wondering what in the world he was going to do, breathless in anticipation and excitement. He moved slightly behind her. She felt him slide his hand between her body and his. They were pressed so close that she knew he took his cock into his own hand.

“Everett,” she moaned, suddenly wild with need. She tried to sit up. She wanted to see him touch himself, but he gently pushed her head back to her thighs.

“Stay still.”

“I want to see you,” she burst out.

“I’m lathering up my cock,” he muttered. “Can’t you feel it?”

Her clit twanged with arousal. She clenched her eyes shut. Yes, she could feel it perfectly; his hand moving between their bodies, sliding up and down the length of his erection. She ground her teeth together and backed up in his lap, desperate to feel more of the arousing sensation. He chuckled softly.

“Here. This will help you to feel it better.”

Her eyes opened wide when he spread her bottom cheeks and slid his thick, throbbing member into the crack. He pushed her buttocks together and, for an electric minute, thrust between her ass cheeks. He grunted in pleasure. Joy began to tremble. His hold on her was absolute. It was too much, feeling his throbbing cock burrowing in and out of the crack of her bottom, sliding against her asshole. It was vaguely shameful the way he used her flesh for his enjoyment. It was lewd and salacious and so exciting, she began to wiggle in his lap, wild for just the tad bit more stimulation she needed to come.

He slapped her bottom. “Stop squirming,” he demanded tensely. “Sit still. I’m going to come like this.”

Tears mingled in the drops of water on her cheeks and thigh; not sad tears, but ones of frustration and pure, undiluted excitement. He tightened his hold on her ass and began to thrust into the crevice more forcefully, groaning. She loved the sound of him taking his pleasure, of feeling him stroking her so intimately.

He thrust his hips hard and tightened his hold on her ass. She felt his cock swell until it felt enormous and rigid pressed against her asshole, the thick head pulsing against the base of her spine.

He muttered a blistering curse. At the same moment she felt warm semen spurt against her spine, he reached around her and wedged his hand between her thighs. He jerked his arm, stimulating her clit forcefully. Joy screamed in surprise as climax ripped through her. She knew she’d been unusually aroused, but hadn’t realized she would ignite at first touch.

A minute later, she still leaned over, sitting in his lap, her breath finally slowing. Everett rinsed his semen from her back and continued to stroke her torso soothingly. Joy felt like her entire body could dissolve and swirl down the drain with the hot, rushing water.

“And to think . . . I thought showers were for getting clean,” she murmured, her mouth moving against her thigh.

The sound of his laughter warmed her more than the steamy water. He leaned down and hugged her tightly in his arms. He kissed her ear.

“I have the feeling that just about anywhere is for getting dirty as long as you’re there, Joy,” he said quietly next to her ear.

*   *   *

Joy and Everett walked up to the big house for lunch. Rill, Seth, Daisy, Joy and Everett all convened around the large oak table in the kitchen while Katie prepared their meal and Seth placed his sketchbook on the table.

Rill smiled at Katie’s reaction when she took a break from her cooking and looked at one of Seth’s sketches.

“Oooh, it’s amazing,” Katie praised.

Curious as to what Seth, Katie and Rill were looking at, Joy gently passed Daisy, whom she had been holding, to Everett. Everett took the baby without missing a beat and immediately began to talk to his niece about nonsensical matters with utter seriousness.

Joy walked the length of the table, the smell of grilling sandwiches—fresh basil, spinach, mozzarella cheese and thinly sliced prosciutto—tickling her nose. She loved Katie and Rill’s kitchen. They had a beautiful, obviously newly decorated dining room, but seemed to prefer to congregate in the cozy kitchen and eat at the large, weathered oak table. The comfortable, colorful, casual kitchen seemed the perfect symbol of the warmth and intimacy of Katie and Rill’s marriage and home life.

Joy inspected her uncle’s sketch for several seconds and looked up at Seth. “It
is
amazing.”

Seth’s lips flickered in a smile at her praise.

“How long were you up doing it?” Joy asked her uncle quietly, giving him a sympathetic glance.

“Not long,” Seth replied laconically.

Rill flipped a few pages in the sketchbook, revealing several other eye-catching new drawings. Joy gave Seth a knowing glance.

He’d been up all night.

“They’re completely fantastic,” Rill enthused, staring at a sketch that integrated everything that he’d shown Seth last night, from drawings from the costume designer and some preliminary photos to drawings from the special effects and set departments. “Everett, you’ve got to see these. You aren’t going to recognize yourself.”

Everett stood, coming over to the rest of them holding Daisy. Rill took his daughter from his friend’s arms and nodded significantly to the sketch currently on display.

Everett’s face stared back at them, transformed into a brutal-looking warrior with a crude, S-shaped wooden helmet that curved up an inch at the neck, a bizarre, forked fringe of coal-black hair on his forehead, which was highlighted by upturned, sinister-looking eyebrows and a slick, highly stylized Fu Manchu.

“Badass,” Everett said.

“The makeup is much less complicated than what we did for
Maritime
,” Seth said. “It’ll require a silicone prosthetic for that slight protrusion on your forehead, but the rest will be hair work and makeup application. Even though Slader is well-known for his unusual translucent, pale blue eyes,” Seth continued, referring to the character Everett would be playing, “Rill has an idea leaving your own color might be just as effective. Your eyes are striking enough, and part of the importance is the contrast with the rest of the features, given Slader’s complex heritage. Besides, Rill says that you have some trouble tolerating contacts.”

“I do,” Everett admitted, flipping a page in the sketchbook. “What would you decide about the contacts if you didn’t know that?”

Seth hesitated. “Slader’s eyes are the windows to his soul—or in his case, his lack of a soul. I know you’re a fantastic actor, but I’m not so sure you can force your eyes into looking like windows onto a frigid day in hell.”

“Seth’s right,” Everett said, meeting Rill’s gaze. “I want to do the contacts.”

Rill nodded once, respecting Everett’s call.

“I’d like to do some sample runs with some different contact tints,” Seth said. “We don’t have to worry about that today, though.”

“Can we see anything this afternoon?” Katie asked enthusiastically as she went over to the large griddle and flipped their sandwiches, which made a hissing sound.

Seth was studying Everett’s face. “I can’t make the prosthetic here, of course, but I brought some hair samples. We can do that and makeup after lunch, if you’re game. Joy can do his body tattoos. You’d have to shave your goatee for me to apply the hair.” Seth refocused his eyes, as if he was shifting between seeing Everett as a human being and not an inanimate model for his art. Joy felt a flicker of annoyance at her uncle and compassion for Everett. It must be hard, having people look at you constantly like you were an object. Guilt swooped through her when she recognized that she routinely looked at models in precisely the same way.

“No problem. Can I use your stuff to shave, mate?” Everett asked Rill at the same time he stole a piece of the yellow pepper Katie was slicing, ignoring Katie’s slap on his hand. Joy’s heart jumped. Everett planned to go and shave the goatee she happened to love.
Right
now.