Her mouth fell open as he leaned down. Suddenly, her hands were on his front, not pushing him away but curling into his polo shirt. Boy, if this was how she reacted to a bit of attention, she needed to date more. She was tugging him toward her, and his arms slid warm and strong around her. His chest was broad and steely. As his head came closer, she rose on tiptoe.
He licked a swipe up her parted lips, his tongue as soft as a rose petal. Rebecca’s breath shuddered out of her.
“God,” he whispered and sealed their mouths together.
He tasted like sun-warmed cherries.
Rebecca wished he’d kiss her forever.
“Mm,” he hummed like he had over her food yesterday. “Mm, Rebecca.”
“Mr. Hayworth—“
She lost her breath as he hiked her butt onto the worktop. The seat brought their heights closer. He angled his head and kissed her a second time, his tongue sliding sleekly into her waiting mouth. She didn’t stop him any more than she had before, her fingers tightening helplessly on his shirt. His kiss was yummy—sliding in, drawing out, sucking gently at her tongue to coax it into playing. It seemed like ages since any man had held her, and he was a fine one. She moaned at the heat he stirred inside her, cream filling her sex so swiftly it spilled out. She squirmed on the stainless steel even as his mouth pulled free.
“Please call me Trey,” he said.
“Mr. Hayworth—”
She wasn’t trying to be funny, but he laughed. His hand came to stroke her face, those rowing calluses—if that’s what they were—undeniably erotic. His gentleness silenced her, both in his touch and eyes. The pad of his thumb slid across the top her cheekbone. She supposed he noticed the shadow under her concealer, because he clucked his tongue.
“Were you losing sleep over this?” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you do that.”
“You are . . . a very peculiar man,” she pushed out breathlessly.
He smiled, a shade of melancholy in the curve. She couldn’t look away from his gaze, nearly colorless in the shadows but conveying mysterious multitudes of feeling. His narrow waist spread her knees, and her thighs were as tense as stone. Through everything, her hands had remained on his chest. She noticed they’d started rubbing in small passes up and down his pecs.
Trey noticed too. His eyes went dark, his respiration quickening.
“I’m kissing you again,” he warned.
No one could mistake the way she wrapped her arms around him for anything but encouragement.
Her participation seemed to embolden him. He groaned, his kiss turning more aggressive, which felt completely great to her. He pulled her off the counter and fully onto him. Though she clung like a monkey, the difference in their heights meant her pussy rocked against his waist—not the target it craved. Rebecca tried to wiggle lower, which somehow resulted in Trey pushing her into a cement block wall.
That put the huge hump of his erection exactly where she needed it. Heedless of what it said about her, Rebecca threw all her strength into rolling over it.
Trey wasn’t offended. He shoved his hand into the back of her trousers and under her panties. “Fuck,” he said, feeling how wet she was. “Jesus, Rebecca.”
Her name sounded funny when he said it, like he knew her better than was possible. In that moment, she didn’t care. He was hot and hard and she wanted him like she couldn’t remember wanting a man before.
“Yes,” she gasped, tugging greedily at his shirt.
Trey tore it over his head himself. “You,” he said.
Understanding him perfectly, Rebecca returned the favor. She had a jacket to wrestle off, plus a button-down collar shirt. Naturally, she took longer than he had, but he panted flatteringly while she worked, his attention glued to every move she made. He panted harder once her shirt was gone. Her bra was satiny and white with small push-up pads to give her some cleavage. With her usual habit of sticking with the comfortable, she had drawer full of others just like it, bought on sale at a bargain store. She was sure he’d seen nicer—both in lingerie and breasts. If he had, he wasn’t complaining.
“Oh God,” he moaned, staring down at her pebbled nipples. Before she could stop him, he hiked her farther up his body. Nuzzling down into her bra cup, he latched his mouth over at least half of her right breast.
Rebecca’s bosom was too small to be her favorite part of her body, but the way her nerves caught fire as he drew on her certainly increased her fondness.
“Can I?” he broke off to ask, already bending toward the floor. “Rebecca, can I get inside of you?”
His knees hit the tiles, and he rolled her under him. His weight felt good, his heat and the ragged in and out of his ribs. She drove her hands up his naked back, fingertips digging like a cat into its firm muscles. His skin was hot, as smooth as if he’d come to her from a spa treatment. Without a second thought, her legs had spread to make room for him. He looked at her, propped above her on his forearms. The expression on his face shocked her, like if she said
yes
it would mean the world to him. Who was she that a man like him would look at her that way? Whatever the reason for it, his urgency was catching. Rebecca was so excited she couldn’t seem to take a full breath.
That she wasn’t in the habit of hopping into bed with men she barely knew was hard to remember.
“Okay,” he said, sensing her lingering indecision. “I won’t ask you that yet. Just open and unzip my jeans. Just take me into your hand.”
“Will you take me?” she asked.
He smiled so wickedly she blushed. That made her feel silly. She wasn’t a mouse. She could ask for what she wanted in plain English.
“I mean will you take my pussy into your hand? Will you get me off too?”
He ducked his head to kiss her, deep and wet and dizzying. When he finally released her, she knew her eyes were starry.
“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice a fusion of sex and smoke. “If you let me, I’ll get you off each and every way you desire.”
This was quite a promise. Rather than express doubt, Rebecca reached for the metal button of his blue jeans. He lifted his hips for the unzipping, his hot dark gaze holding hers. His bulge pushed out as the tab lowered.
“You’re big,” she breathed.
He flashed his dimples at her again.
“Oh fine,” she said, eyes rolling at his smirk. “It’s not the size that matters. It’s what you do with it.”
He started to laugh, but her hand was just then sliding into his cotton briefs.
He sighed long and low with pleasure, lashes sinking as her fingers roved over him.
“Oh boy,” she said, loving all that velvety rigid heat. “Oh boy, you are a handful.”
She pulled her hold up his shaft, and he writhed like the sort of dancer who gets paid in dollar bills. She guessed he was sensitive. She thought she was being careful not to grip too tightly.
“Fuck,” he said with his teeth gritted. “God.”
Remembering what he’d promised, he worked his own hand into the front of her panties, two long fingers pushing her lips open. The heel of his palm settled on her clit, giving it a firm grind that spilled more cream from her. He curled his fingers to their second knuckle into her wet entrance. Once there, he didn’t rub or thrust. Instead, he used his fingers to exert pressure on the wall where her ache of wanting was most tender.
Rebecca’s moan betrayed how much she liked that.
The longing sound brought his eyes open, their lustrous surface catching stray gleams of light. “I have a condom,” he said huskily. “I really want to be inside you, if you think you’d enjoy that.”
She knew she shouldn’t let this go any farther, but she couldn’t say
no
to him. He got to her in places she hadn’t known she had: emotional places, places she wanted to throw open for the first time. Never mind she’d probably smack herself tomorrow. Today she wanted to know what being taken by him was like. Resistance dissolving, she smiled before she answered.
“Okay,” she said, giving his hard-on a friendly squeeze. “Why don’t you show me what this bad boy can do?”
She spoke as humorously as she could, knowing better than to be too serious with a guy—no matter how sweet he was acting.
“I’m not asking if you’re sure,” he warned, reaching hastily into his back pocket. He pulled the condom from his wallet, using his teeth to rip the corner off. She didn’t bother asking how old it was. Given his looks and charm, the answer had to be not very.
“Do you want me to help?” she asked.
He smiled and shook his head. “Already got it on.”
He kneeled back to show her. Though his cock was worth ogling, something else caught her eye. The Celtic knot on his neck wasn’t his only ink. A tattoo stretched up the side of his ripped stomach: a Chinese dragon, it looked like. She guessed the thing was old news to him. Before she could reach to touch it, he pushed her legs up his front. He removed her boring comfortable shoes and dragged off her trousers. This was a skilled bit of undressing. Rebecca tried not to worry if her most recent shave had been recent enough. To judge by the way he rolled forward and rubbed her thigh, having access to her booty was what he cared about.
She still wore her satiny panties, but they weren’t much of a barrier.
“Sorry it’s cold,” he whispered, meaning the kitchen tile.
She ran her hands up his clipped chest hair and struggled not to purr. He was manscaped just the right amount for her. “Sometimes a girl’s gotta do what a girl needs to.”
“You could be on top.”
This time she shook her head. Her refusal seemed to please him. Maybe he preferred the superior position? Smiling, he curved one hand under her bottom and lowered his hips to her.
The thickness of his erection settled over her labia.
“Say when,” he said, “and I’ll be inside you in two seconds.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant until his pelvis began rocking. He was warming her up again, sliding his length up and down the silky gusset of her panties. The friction felt really good, and even better when he compressed her nipple between his thumb and finger. He pulled the bead out, and a zing shot straight to her pussy.
“God,” she gasped, hips jerking with pleasure.
“‘When’ is the word,” he reminded her.
Jeez, he was cute. She stretched up to kiss him, hands starfished on his back, tongue saying
thank you
and
please do me
. He jerked with surprise before kissing her back just as hungrily. The way he gulped for air when she let him go was a treat of the first order.
“
When
,” she teased, her voice rough with arousal.
Excitement flashed across his features. His hand shifted between them, thumbing aside her panties and fitting his cock in place. Though his tip was broad, she was very wet. He rocked it inward to test her, and she grew steamier.
The sound she made was probably a whimper.
“Yes,” she said to the brief question in his expression.
He closed his eyes and pushed with his ass muscles.
She saw everything on his face as his cock slid in: pleasure, wonder, a flicker of being overwhelmed when being wrapped in warmth felt a bit too nice. Then
she
couldn’t keep her eyelids up. The sensation of being filled had to be savored.
He didn’t rush his penetration, at least not until the end. Then he groaned and shoved harder, taking the last inch of her.
Rebecca thrust upward to grind them both closer.
He let out a growling noise, like this was the far side of too much. Even then, he didn’t start thrusting.
“Please,” she begged, short nails curling into his shoulders. “Don’t make me wait for more.”
His laugh was at least half moan. He did something with one knee that lifted her butt off the hard cool tile. “Hold on tight,” he said. “God, I want this so bad.”
She didn’t know why he did, just that she was grateful. He drew back, and then—thank the Lord—he went at her fast: quick strong pumps that tugged her inside and out. She’d never gotten so much clit stimulation from plain old intercourse. Maybe this was due to his thickness, or he just had a good technique. Whatever the reason, her excitement climbed faster than she expected. He hadn’t been driving at her even two minutes before she hovered on orgasm.
Her neck arched off the floor with its imminence.
“Shit,” he said, reading the tremors inside of her. The fingers that gripped her bottom dug in harder. “Breathe for me . . . just . . . hold on a little longer and I’ll catch up.”
He went faster, using longer strokes that somehow didn’t push her past the brink. They did plenty for him. His breath huffed out, the center of his thick shaft swelling.
The pressure the extra girth created was inspiring.
“Rebecca,” he gasped. “Don’t tense your thighs like that.”
She hadn’t known she was doing it. Probably her body didn’t want to wait for its climax. He massaged her butt, no doubt coaxing her to relax. The caress felt really good to her. She couldn’t help wriggling around him, couldn’t keep from thrusting harder into his next down stroke.
He grunted and slung a second bent knee under her. Rebecca’s eyes flew open as her world shifted. Though she was lying down, Trey had sat up to thrust. His hands held her hips like steel, controlling her movements. Ironically—given her control freak streak—him restraining her pushed really good buttons. Her body seemed to think it could react more freely if he was driving it. She tried to distract herself by focusing on him. His bare chest looked like a god’s, muscles rippling under the sheer dark fur. He was close to the peak as well, his beautifully interesting face tightening with pleasure. With a groan of need, he shifted directions the tiniest bit.
The new angle he pumped into her was even better than before.
“Take it,” he panted. “Take what you need from me.”
He stretched his thumbs to her labia, rubbing into the nerves beneath while at the same time pushing the folds closer to his striving cock. His veins had a texture, popped up as they were with blood. Wonderful sensations throbbed crazily through her groin.
“Trey,” she gasped, startled by how sharp her feelings were. Desperate for an anchor, she slapped her hands around his wrists.