Sweet Seduction Serenade (22 page)

"I can do this," I advised him, forcing myself to wake up.

"Shhh," he said quietly. "You're dead on your feet, angel."

"But..."

"Take your dress off then and put the T-Shirt on," he instructed, as though he was making a concession for me. I glared down at the top of his dark head, but he didn't notice, too busy removing my second boot and throwing that with the other towards my bag.

"I've got PJ's in my bag," I said, not reaching for his T-Shirt or removing the dress.

"T-Shirt," he said, taking my socks off, one by one.

"I..." I started, but he interrupted, having finished with my socks and standing up as he grasped the bottom of my dress.

"If I don't get to live out one of my fantasies tonight, then I get to dress you in my shirt," he declared, as though that was perfectly reasonable. "Give a guy a break, angel," he added and then promptly whipped my dress off over my head in one go.

I was left sitting there in my bra and knickers. Completely stunned by the move, I might add.

"Fuck," he muttered, just standing there staring at me. I lifted my head with tremendous effort to meet his eyes. But he was too busy looking at my bra, my bare skinned belly and then finally resting on my pretty little pink panties with the pale blue bow at the front. "Angel," he growled. "Put the T-Shirt on now, or I gotta fuck you."

For obvious reasons all tiredness had left me and the stomach flipping had begun again. I slowly lifted my hands up to the front of my bra, my eyes never leaving his face. As my fingers came in contact with the front clasp, his eyes sprang up from my knickers to hold my gaze.

"Angel," he warned softly, his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed thickly.

"Yes?" I whispered back.

"You undo that there's no telling what will happen," he advised me, his voice a couple of octaves lower than usual.

"Really?" I asked innocently. "I was kinda hopin' you'd cowboy up," I said in excellent Tennessee.

"Ah..." he managed, before he had to swallow again. His eyes kept darting from mine down to my fingers lingering above the clasp, then back up to my eyes again. He almost looked in pain.

"Should I stop?" I asked, throwing in a little pout while I was at it.

"Fuck no," he rasped, his head shaking emphatically from side to side. "But I gotta warn you, I'm barely in control here as it is. This could be... well... I think... maybe..."

I smiled and decided to put him out of his misery, so in one swift movement undid the clasp, slipped my bar off and threw it towards my boots, hat and dress over by my bag.

"Holy fuck," he whispered, dropping to his knees before me. His hands were actually shaking as he raised them slowly to run a thumb across each nipple.

I arched my back and threw my head back at his touch, then spread my legs to allow him closer access. I could feel his jeans down the inside length of each calf and thigh, his T-Shirt rubbing against my stomach. And, alarmingly, his belt with all the ASI gear pressing into my frame. He must have noticed, maybe I jerked back or something, because the next thing I heard was his belt buckle being undone and a whole lot of things thumping to the floor without any undue care.

"Shouldn't you look after those?" I asked, bringing my head up to look at him. I'd fallen back on the bed, legs still hanging over the side on either side of his hips, my upper body resting on my elbows to elevate my head.

"Probably," he muttered, pulling his T-Shirt over his head and allowing me the first unhindered view I'd had in eight years of his very fine chest and shoulders. Nick had been well defined when I met him that night so long ago, but he'd only been twenty-four. Now at thirty-two he'd grown into his frame, he'd claimed it, he'd made it his.
And it was divine
.

I licked my lips as I watched the light from the lamp cast shadows over the ridges and valleys of his torso. I couldn't wait to get my mouth and tongue on every curve and dip. Saliva actually pooled in my mouth and I had to swallow it down or start to drool. I watched as he stood up and proceeded to undo the buttons on his jeans. He wasn't going slowly, this was no seductive striptease. He was all business, his end goal in sight. He toed off his boots, then bent down as he removed his jeans, taking his boxers with him at the same time. When he stood up again I just about moaned out loud at the sight of all that gloriously naked body.

He was fully erect, hard and straining. Images of that night in his arms came crashing back in. My mouth wrapped around that thick shaft. The feel of its length deep inside my core, stretching me beyond anything any man had ever done before or since. His size alone was enough to dream about for eight years, but it was also
what
he did with the thing that haunted my sleep. Even at the age of twenty-four Nick had mastered sex, I couldn't wait to find out what he'd learned to do with that body of his in the past eight years.

"Are you gonna reciprocate, angel?" he asked, nodding towards my panties.

"Hold your horses, cowboy," I drawled, "just enjoying the view." And boy, what a view!

He huffed a laugh out and muttered, "Testing my control, cowgirl." Then got down on his knees again before me, denying me my beautiful view, and pushed my legs further apart.

Before I knew what he was doing his mouth came down over my panties and his tongue pressed against the material hard. He started eating me through my knickers, small groaning sounds coming from the back of his throat, joined by a long, low moan from me as I collapsed back on the bed and forgot about everything else but what his face between my thighs felt like. I felt his fingers at the edge of my panties, between my thighs, and then he moved the fabric sideways, allowing himself a good view and the next moment his tongue was on me - nothing separating us now - and quickly followed by his finger sliding inside my wet folds.

I arched my back, then needing better leverage, lifted both feet to place on his shoulders, which spread my legs further apart. One of his hands came around my rear and pulled me back against his mouth, while holding me still by my hip, as the other hand worked tirelessly with his tongue - two fingers now sliding in and out in a rhythmic fashion - bringing me closer and closer to the edge. He found my little nub and sucked, then flicked at with his tongue, then unbelievably nibbled it with his teeth. I exploded in a rush of colours and sounds, the room disappearing around me and only what Nick was doing to me - not slowing down as I came so very hard - on my mind.

He must have stopped at some stage - although my orgasm didn't - because he'd removed my underwear and repositioned us up on the bed, my body wrapped up in his arms, my face buried in the curve of his neck as I came down from the exquisite high he'd given me. He let me recover, then as I started to trace patterns on his chest idly, thinking that was pretty darn awesome, but now maybe I could get some sleep - selfishly of course, but he'd kind of made my body turn to goo; my limbs all felt languid, my mind a cotton wool comfy mess and sleep a bare few seconds away - he shifted us both. His body lying flat on the bed, mine lying lazily along the top of his.

My head dipped down into that curve between his neck and shoulder that I was coming to really like and I thought, I could do this. I could sleep here. But clearly he had other ideas, because he clasped my upper thighs, spread my legs so they fell either side of his hips and then rocked his groin into the correct position to place the tip of his erection at my entrance.

"Not done with you yet, angel," he said huskily.

"But I'm sleepy," I complained, even as I rubbed myself against his broad tip.

"Wake up, cowgirl," he whispered in a low voice against my ear. "You are not coming like a fucking rainbow in my arms and leaving me like this."

"You do it then," I insisted, snuggling down into his shoulder-neck at the same time as rubbing myself against his erection. Amazing how I could do two things at once and still be trying to get to sleep.

"All right then," Nick murmured and then rocked himself in just the right way so he slid an inch inside.

That woke me up pretty darn quickly. My head shot up, my eyes no doubt big as saucers as I stared down at his crinkled ice-blue ones.

"Oh, you want a part of this now?" he asked, rocking again to bring himself out a half inch and then back in a little further than before. I groaned, I couldn't help it, but he felt so darn fine. "You want any more than that, angel, you're gonna have to work for it. You're so damn tight I can hardly make headway."

I was tight, but regrettably not from lack of use. Derek and I may have been casual, but we had been active when together. Nick was just that much bigger than I was used to. Still, I was sure he could manage quite efficiently on his own, he just wanted me to participate. I didn't have an argument to offer, because I definitely wanted to be
a part of this
. I rolled my hips a little, stretching myself against the tip of his hard length. Once, twice, three times. Making him groan and a fine tremor start up in his hands, that were resting on each of my hips.

"Angel," he said on another groan and that did it for me. It was the same way he'd said it all those years ago. As though I truly was an angel and he was in heaven.

I sat up, lifted my hips slightly, and then slowly lowered myself down his entire length. The stretch was delicious, the burn making me so darn wet, but the look on his face - pure ecstasy - made a sigh escape my lips by the time I had him fully seated. I stilled once I'd taken all of him and just took a moment to relish the sensation of having Nick Anscombe, my perfect ice-blue eyed cowboy, deep inside me once again.

"Angel," he said with some effort. "What are you waiting for?"

"Just taking in the view," I said looking down at him and letting my eyes travel to where we were connected.

"That's good, Eva, but can I suggest you do it while gently rocking?"

I let a little laugh out and did as he said. Slowly at first and when neither of us could handle that torturous pace any longer, I rocked his world. I let the cowgirl-in-the-rodeo-ring out, I let him see the real me. Bared to the soul. Country girl soaring.

And I didn't even have a guitar under my hands or a song on my lips.

I just had Nick.

And it was all I needed to soar.

I slept with a smile on my face. I was quite sure that even as I rested in blissful and much needed slumber, the smile didn't shift at all. Nick wrapped me up in his arms, tucked me into his side, threw his leg over my thighs and wouldn't let me go. I didn't complain. I was sated, sexed out and seriously sleepy. I snuggled in - his low groaned "
fuck!
" as his hips thrust up seeking his release still ringing in my ears - and didn't stop smiling for the rest of the night.

We didn't talk afterwards, there wasn't anything to say. We'd said it all with our bodies, with our moans and the extremely beautiful orgasms we'd both shared. Three for me in total. One for him, but I was thinking it might have been pretty darn excellent, judging by the way his body melted into mine and he fell asleep so contentedly afterwards.

It had been late by the time we finally stopped and we hadn't shifted position the entire still dark hours since. I was sure we'd wake up and repeat our walk down memory lane in the morning. In fact I was counting on trying a few more of my fantasies out before I let him start in on his. Eight years was a long time to repeatedly reminisce over a one night stand. To dream of what else we could have done. To fantasise about doing it all over again and again. And I was fairly certain that Nick felt the same way.

Or at least I hoped so, anyway.

But we didn't get to test my theory, because at some ungodly early hour - or it seemed an ungodly early hour - Nick knifed up off the bed, crashed into the side table and spat out a "Fuck!" disturbing my lazily planned rekindling of our relationship. "Where's my fucking gun?" he whispered hoarsely.

Before I had a chance to consider why he would be asking for his gun at this early hour, whilst standing beside the bed naked, I answered.

"On the floor, over by my bag." And his clothes, where they'd landed the night before in his haste to strip naked and have his deliciously remembered way with me.

"Fuck," he muttered again. "I never leave my gun on the fucking floor."

I smiled to myself, thinking maybe Nick just had some unusual morning habits that I missed last time, having slipped out of the bed before the sun rose, and rolled over to snuggle down under the covers and get some more sleep. I was still exhausted and floating on a post-coital cloud. The gun and Nick's early morning habits could wait.

"Get dressed, Eva," he instructed bluntly.

I opened my eyes and sucked in a breath. Crap. I'd been wrong. Not only would there be no more walks down memory lane, clearly he'd done what he set out to do and had no intentions of trying out any fantasies either. Maybe he never had fantasies at all. Maybe he just wanted to be the one to chuck me out of his bed finally. Payback. Right his world. Make sure his record of being the one to walk away was still intact.

"Angel," he said from over my shoulder. I could hear his gun going into his holster, he'd obviously pulled on some jeans at least. "My fucking parents are here. Get dressed."