“You like lingerie then?” she teased.
“On the right woman? Oh yeah,” he moaned.
Veronica walked out of his roaming embrace and left the room.
• • •
What the hell just happened? Was she leaving? Did he gross her out? He knew there were women who didn’t like to dress up in anything sexy, was she one of them? A wave of disappointment crushed him and his erection. His cock deflated faster than a punctured balloon. He sat back in his chair in shock, uncertain what to do or say next.
Suddenly, Ronnie returned holding her wallet. She took out a credit card and tossed it to him. He caught it and placed it on his desk.
“Order it, Size 36D. My treat. Have it delivered here and then you can surprise me with it.”
His erection sprang back to life in a nano-second.
“Come here.”
He spread his legs far apart so part of the swivel seat showed.
“Sit here, we’ll order it together.”
“On one condition, lingerie boy,” Ronnie crooned.
“Name it, anything.”
“I want you to play a little dress-up for me in return, only fair wouldn’t you say?” Ronnie picked up her credit card and ran it suggestively over his straining bulge. Nick swallowed hard.
“I won’t wear lingerie,” he croaked.
Ronnie threw back her head and laughed, he loved it when she did that. She had a deep, throaty, husky, sexy laugh. Full bodied, just like her. Her laugh went straight to his dick hardening it to the point of pain.
“Nick, you’re so funny when you put your mind to it. No, not lingerie. I want to see you wearing a kilt and nothing else. Holding a sword. You have a sword, don’t you?” She trailed her fingers over his erection. “We can get you one. You see Nick, I’ve a weakness for historical romances, anything with
Highlander
in the title. Hunky, shirtless, laddies wearing kilts on the cover. You should see my collection. So, is it a deal?”
Nick smiled. “Och, I dinna know ye were such a braw lassie. Aye, I agree.”
He watched Ronnie’s eyes widen at his perfect Scottish burr. Nick was a pretty good mimic if he could say so himself.
“Promise me. You’ll talk to me just like that, when we get the kilt,” she moaned.
“You want me to be Connor Macleod, William Wallace, or Rob Roy? Baby, I can do it, no sweat. Now, come here.” He pulled her over to sit in front of him in the large chair. “And order that — now.”
• • •
Veronica nearly bounced with glee, he agreed! That Scottish accent he used, Oh wow, she was turned on. Her fingers glided over the keys as she typed in her information. Nick’s erection was persistent and so were his hands, making it hard to concentrate. He reached around and cupped her breasts. He began to undo the rest of the buttons on her blouse. Pushing it off her shoulders, his warm lips trailed hot, passionate kisses on her arms, his teeth nipping her skin.
“Hurry,” he insisted.
Veronica’s hands shook as she placed the order. She turned around in the chair and straddled him.
“Done. We’ll order the kilt later before I leave, deal?”
“Oh, yeah,” he moaned, capturing her mouth with his.
His kiss was insistent. Nick unsnapped her black satin bra and removed it. His lips left hers and trailed straight to her breasts.
“God, Ronnie. They’re so beautiful.”
His mouth captured a nipple, he laved, sucked, kissed, and worshipped. Veronica arched her back. His insistent lips felt fantastic. His hand came up to capture the other breast. Nick traveled back and forth between the two, the sensation off the charts. It went on and on until she felt it, she was going to come — just from him sucking her breasts? That never happened before, it nev —
“Oh, Jesus. Niiiccckkkk!”
Veronica screamed her climax. She bet they heard her down in the bar. Nick stood and pulled his sweater off.
Trying to recover her voice, she said, “Wait, I want to watch you take off your clothes.” She climbed onto his bed and laid back completely unconcerned she was bare breasted. “Slowly, Nick. Let me savor you.”
Nick sauntered to the computer and brought up a folder.
“Let’s make it even better. You might as well know right now that I like rock sex.”
“Rock sex?”
“I like to pound away to the beat of rock music. Another time perhaps, but for now, we’ll use this one song for strip music.”
The opening rock beat of Foghat’s
Slow Ride
filled the room. Nick moved his hips suggestively, slowing undoing his jeans, and pushing them down and kicking them off until he stood in his boxer briefs.
Thrusting in time to the music, he began to grind away in his underwear, hands behind his head like a skilled Chippendale’s dancer, flexing his ample biceps much to Veronica’s delight. She almost wet herself laughing. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine sex could be this much fun. To find a man you could laugh with even in the most intimate moments, and never, ever, did she imagine it would be with a man like Nick Crocetti.
Veronica clapped and giggled at his antics. Oh, he was wonderful. He acted goofy and sexy, and it was dammed endearing.
Nick couldn’t have timed it more perfectly as the song ended he stood before her completely nude. She stopped laughing. The man was masculine, muscular perfection. What a surprise, he didn’t have any tattoos or piercings that she could see. She dare not verbalize it aloud, for she surmised Nick might take offence.
Oh yeah, I have a motorcycle, I was in jail, I should be covered in tattoos,
she could hear him sneer. It would be a mood killer to be sure. Besides, Nick wasn’t turning out the way she imagined on so many levels. No, she’d keep that particular observation to herself. The room became deathly quiet. He stood and leaned on one hip, his eyes hooded with passion, his body hard and ready.
Nick strolled to the light switch. He turned the dial on the dimmer, leaving the room in a soft, dusky twilight.
Veronica suddenly felt self-conscious and reached for a pillow and held it in front of her, hiding her bare torso.
Walking back toward the foot of the bed, he crawled up the bed toward her like a tiger stalking his prey. His muscles flexed and bunched as he moved. The fun and laughter seemed to be over. Nick looked serious. His face showed his hunger, his need, and it all but took her breath away. He reached for the pillow she clutched tightly. Veronica struggled to hold it, but only for a minute. He tossed it aside.
“Never hide yourself. Not with me,” he whispered. He tugged on her jeans. “Take these off.”
She unzipped them, arched her hips upward, and pushed them down. Nick grabbed both legs and pulled them the rest of the way off. She was left only in her black satin panties. His hands roved over her legs and spread them wide. His hands stroked and caressed her skin, his breathing puffing out as a steam engine. He lay down on his stomach, his face inches from her crotch.
Veronica started to tremble from anticipation. His long, talented fingers reached in under the thin satin and teased her curls.
“You’re so wet,” he moaned.
Nick moved all around her folds. He pulled his fingers out and languidly licked them. “And taste so sweet.”
Veronica had never seen a man do that. He tasted her like sweet maple syrup. She thought it would sicken her, but it didn’t, it made her more aroused.
“Are these panties expensive? A favorite pair?” He asked with a sexy wicked grin.
“No, not really — ”
Nick gripped her panties and ripped them right off her body.
“Oh, my
god
!” she cried out.
Nick spread her legs further, and before she could even take a deep breath, he laved at her folds, drinking and sucking. His tongue moved in and out with decided purpose. William Titus had done this once to her that wild, wedding weekend, but not with this finesse, this — talent. Nick’s technique was pure magic. With two fingers he spread her folds wide.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “I want you to come for me, Ronnie. Scream all you want, no one will hear. I told Kevin to keep the jukebox downstairs cranked wide open. Scream for me.”
Nick devoured her like a rich, decadent dessert. He savored and delighted in her essence.
Her back arched, the sensual sensation built into something that William Titus could not bring her to. The pending climax like nothing she’d experienced before. Not better than another orgasm she had, but on a different scale, a different damned universe. Veronica splintered apart. Everything went dark. She opened her mouth to scream, but only a dry croak came out. Her head bounced up and down on the pillow as she shuddered, over and over. A Multiple orgasm — her first.
Nick, she knew it would be with Nick.
Nick watched her reaction with satisfaction. He never saw anything so sexy as Ronnie climaxing. This one was intense he could tell, she still shuddered. He touched her and she shook and trembled again. Smiling, he leaned down and took the hard nub into his mouth. Ronnie came again, within minutes. He could drive her wild like this for hours, but he wanted inside this wet, exotic place of hers. If he could crawl up inside her — he would.
Nick stood on his knees, his face and goatee glistening with her essence. He reached to the end table and slid open the drawer, bringing out the box of condoms. He wiped his mouth and smiled at her.
“Sweet, juicy nectar. Sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”
He pulled out a package, ripped it open, and rolled the condom over his thick cock as far as he could. Still on his knees, he moved closer and gripped her hips. Nick tilted her slightly upward and plunged into her. He groaned loudly. So damned wet, but wonderfully tight, her inner muscles clenched him. Nick took one of her legs and rested it on his hip as he thrust deeper. He soon settled into a slow, languid rhythm she easily matched. God, this was more intense than the wild animal sex behind her bakery if that were even damned possible.
He closed his eyes. Nothing — nothing compared to this sweet, wet torture. He let out a moan that sounded like a wolf baying at the moon and he didn’t care.
Damn, he could do this for hours. He slowed briefly, savoring the feel of her clutching, milking and caressing his cock. He leaned forward until he could feel that hard nub, swollen and rubbing against him. It demanded further release, it screamed for it. He let out a feral growl. More, he wanted more.
Nick threw her shapely legs over his shoulder. He had to go deeper. As deep as he could go, buried, masked, and obscured by her hot, wet core.
She gasped. “Nick … What — ”
His hand stroked one of her legs.
“You’ll love this, baby, hold on. I’m going to go so deep inside of you and I will touch your soul.”
He nibbled hungrily on her leg and couldn’t believe he just said that. But Christ, she felt so good, so right. He wanted to give Ronnie pleasure — deep, throbbing bliss. He found he
did
want to touch her soul.
He moved faster, rotating his hips at her tilted ones. He was so deep. His breath was ragged and out of control. How many times had he had sex over the years? He lost count ages ago. This was near a religious epiphany, or so he imaged. Intense. Wrenching. Powerful. All consuming.
Fucking fantastic.
• • •
Veronica watched as Nick pounded away. His head was thrown back, every cord in neck pulled tight and strained as if he reached for something. His perfectly shaped white teeth were clenched. He gasped and moaned, verbalizing in a raw, unfiltered way what he was doing and what he would do next. Dirty talk from Nick. She loved it, that gravelly deep voice, Oh, wow.
“I’m going to fuck you all night, Ronnie. My hard, aching cock deep, buried so deep — ”
As for her, she’d just experienced another release. What was that, four or five times? How could he keep this up? This must be the stamina part she’d heard about. The man was insatiable.
He went achingly slow, then so fast. Veronica was inundated with pure, raw pleasure-torture. Her body throbbed with want and need. Her hair was a sweaty mass of tangles, plastered to her forehead. How much time passed, she had no idea.
A look of pure gratification crossed his handsome features. Veronica had to admit she was secretly pleased to see his desire showing on his face. She moved her hips a little quicker. Nick opened his eyes and gazed down at her.
“Faster … harder?” he murmured.
Veronica couldn’t speak, she could only nod. Without withdrawing from her, he lowered her legs and gently turned her over so she lay on her stomach. He lifted her to her hands and knees. The skill at which he managed that deft move was impressive. Nick — if nothing else — was very good at this. She tried not to think of the fact he’d been with so many damned women before her. Veronica felt his hands clasp hers. Nick placed them on his headboard.
He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Hold on, baby. Fast and hard. Or should I say, faster and harder?”
The slow withdraw, right to the tip, and then he plunged in to the hilt. A ragged cry tore from her throat from the intensity and pure contentment. This was fast becoming her favorite position, Nick behind her. It was so carnal and untamed. Like him.
He pumped harder, his hips rotating as he did. Skin slapped against skin, her breasts heaved back and forth from the sensation of him banging away. Nick grasped her rear tightly. She could feel it. Ripples of dark and light burst behind her eyes and a ragged cry tore from her throat. Seconds later, Nick followed her onto that unknown celestial sphere. He gripped her taut against him while he shuddered and roared. He bucked and quaked for interminable moments.
He slowly withdrew. Still on his knees, he turned her to face him and cupped her cheeks. His strong hands on her face kept her upright.
“Ronnie,” he exhaled raggedly. “Stay with me tonight. Let me love you, all night. Sleep in my arms.”
Nick,
casual sex, love ‘em and leave ‘em
Crocetti just asked her to spend the night? She was stunned. He sounded almost — vulnerable. Surely, she imagined it, but the invitation was too good to pass up as he may never make it again.