Two Cabins, One Lake: An Alaskan Romance (17 page)

Chapter F
ourteen

G
ary
pushed his way into the shower after me.  Now that we’d done the deed, I found
his naked company slightly awkward.  I didn’t really know what to say, so I
kept my mouth shut.

I tried to finish soaping up.  I say ‘tried’ because I kept
finding him in my way.

My neighbor wasn’t exactly a small man.  And he didn’t seem
to be washing up himself; he was just hogging the spray and watching me.  When
I bent down for my soap, he shifted a bit, and his bare ass bumped against my cheek.

I came to the sudden, irrevocable conclusion that my shower
wasn’t big enough for the two of us.  “Do you mind?” I asked, straightening
back up with exasperation.

His brow rose in inquiry.

“You’re fucking big—”

“Why, thank you.”

“—and I’m actually trying to finish my shower,” I said,
rolling my eyes.  “You’re in my way.”

He took a step closer, looking at me innocently, now
entirely blocking the spray.  “Oh, I am?” he asked, invading my personal space.

“Yes,” I said, stepping back, “you are.”

He nudged even closer, and I wound up in the very end of the
tub.  My heel found the edge, and I couldn’t go any further.  I put my hands on
his chest, trying to hold him off.

He leaned into me, pressing me back against the cool tile. 
Earlier, I’d been too turned on to recognize an unpleasant sensation, but now I
fully appreciated the contrast between my flushed skin and the chilly ceramic.

I shrieked and shoved at him.  He leaned harder. 
Improbably, I found myself laughing.  But I was miffed, too.  Go ahead and explain
that
.

“Get off me, you bastard,” I said.  I struggled between him
and the wall until I finally pushed him back far enough to squeak out the
side.  I slid out of the tub through the back end of the curtain, and picked my
way along the narrow gap next to the toilet.

He started to sing along to the music, taunting me with how
much he was enjoying my warm shower.  I thought about climbing back in the
other end of the tub and reengaging.  But a naked fight with my neighbor wasn’t
one I could win.  I needed a tactical advantage.

I needed a weapon.

I was still dripping as I leaned down to grab one of the
towels off the floor.  As he turned off the water, I started to twist it.  When
he slid the shower curtain aside, I let fly.

The end of the towel snapped against his upper thigh,
leaving a red welt and making him jump.  I grinned in triumph.

He stared at me.  “You did not just—”

I did it again, this shot landing dangerously close to his
balls.

“You little—”  He scrambled out of the tub, leaning down to
pick up the other towel.  My next blow glanced harmlessly off his back.

He came up with vengeance in his eyes, and I had some
thoughts about the better part of valor, and living to fight another day.  But
I squelched those wussy thoughts, and held my ground.  I got another shot in as
he wound up his own towel.  It flapped harmlessly against his hip.

Then he flicked his towel at me, making a crisp, loud
crack!
and missing me by less than an inch.  I backed up, realizing I was in trouble. 
He had the advantage in reach, and he apparently knew what he was doing.  My
heart pumped faster as he matched my retreat.

He tried for me again, and I dodged.  He missed, but barely.

Then my back hit the door.

“Uh-oh,” he drawled.  “You’re trapped.  Whatcha gonna do?”

I had to fix it.  Immediately.  I yanked the door open and
turned, trying to scoot through the crack before it was even fully open.

He caught me square on the ass cheek as I scrambled out of
the bathroom.  I yelped, jumped a foot, and ran for the kitchen table chased by
his laugh.  Panting, I skidded around the other side.

This situation had somehow gotten out of control.  I was
naked and still wet from the shower, hiding from a madman behind my kitchen
table.

I’d been half-hoping he’d show some maturity, put aside his
towel, and get dressed.  But obviously I expected too much of him.

He stalked out of the bathroom, naked as the day he was
born.  His eyes locked on me like heat-seeking missiles, and he readied his
towel as he crossed the few feet to the table.

I bounced on the balls of my feet, ready to move.  My hair
dripped cool water down my back, and the air in my cabin wasn’t as warm as it
should have been for such activities.  Thus, my nipples were almost painfully
hard.  And my ass was smarting.

He started circling the table.  I moved to keep it between
us.

Suddenly his wrist snapped out, and he got me over the
table, right on my waist.

Ouch
.  I hissed, covering the burning spot with my
hand, and glared at him.  “You
bastard
.”  He’d hit me.  He’d actually
hit
me.

His eyebrows rose.  And then his mouth curled.

In the background, I heard the opening riffs of
Thunderstruck by AC/DC.

Fuck it.
  Tossing down my towel, I charged him.  I
hit him like a linebacker, and I was smaller, but I had surprise and a backlog
of rage on my side.  He laughed as we careened the few feet across the dining
room and thumped up against the sliding glass door.  We grappled, and he
flipped us around so it was
my
bare back pressed to the cool glass.

I objected.  Loudly.  We lost our balance, and slid sideways,
squeaking across the window.  He caught us against the doorframe.  I was
squirming like an SOB, trying to use my slick skin to slip free.

“Thun-der!”

He was having none of it.  He growled, and heaved me up into
his arms.  I was laughing and kicking, terrified that he’d drop me, and that
only made my squirming worse.  I shrieked as gravity claimed me, and then I
landed with an
oof
on my couch.

Before I even knew which way was up, he was on me.  He
pinned me to the cushions, his mouth covering mine even as the firm bar of his
erection got caught between us—when had
that
happened?  I yanked at his
hair, because I wasn’t done fighting, and he nipped my lip.  I nipped him back,
feeling exhilarated by the sting.

“Thun-der!”

Then his mouth was on my breasts and I didn’t have any real
firm memory of how he got there.  But I wasn’t pushing him away anymore.  I was
pulling his head closer and pushing up against him for more.

The lead singer was stuck on a railroad track—

He worked his way even further down.  I cried out at the
first long stroke of his tongue alongside my clit.

—and he knew,
“there was no turning back!”

Shivers of sensation bounced through me, waves of pleasure
that robbed me of speech.  I writhed on the couch under him, shocked and
ridiculously aroused at the same time.  How had this happened?  How had I gone
from singing in the shower to this gorgeous man’s mouth buried between my
thighs?

Arousal twisted in my belly at the sight of him down there, nose-deep
in my blonde curls while he peered up at me with his sparkling green eyes.  As
I’d observed the other night, this man was no stranger to a woman’s body, and
he seemed absolutely ravenous for mine.  He dove in, swirling and fluttering
his tongue against my clit, driving me wild.  My hips rocked under his mouth. 
I found myself short of breath, and felt a crazed flush rising.

“Thunderstruck!”

He slid two fingers into my sopping pussy, and I lost it.  I
arched up off the cushions with a wild yell.  My whole body shuddered as
lightning coursed through my veins.  My vision was sparkling, my nerve endings
sizzling, and it seemed like even my lungs had seized.

He pulled his mouth away.  He gripped my hips, and yanked me
back down the couch.  The blunt tip of his cock prodded at my slick, swollen
folds as he crowded between my thighs.

I gasped.  “Condom!”  I twisted in his grip, trying to push
myself onto him even as my brain said he needed a— “Condom,” I panted.

“Fuck,” he said.  He held for a few breaths, his chest
heaving as he struggled for control.  But then he peeled himself off of me.  He
stood over me, and the first thing I focused on was the tip of his finger,
pointed at my chest.  “You stay right there,” he ordered.  “Don’t move.”  Then
he rounded the corner and I heard him start up the ladder to my loft.

Did I stay?  Fuck no, I didn’t.

I stumbled to my feet on wobbly legs, and started toward the
dining area.  I didn’t have a destination in mind, I just didn’t want to follow
his orders.  Pleasure-drunk was a good word for me right then.  I tottered over
and caught myself on the table, staring stupidly at my towel lying on the
floor, tangled around a chair leg.

“Guess what I found next to the condoms,” Gary said as he
climbed back down.

Next to the condoms… 
Oh no.

He turned around and spotted me, standing, not at all where
he’d left me.  “I thought I told you not to move,” he said, starting toward
me.  “In fact, I’m pretty sure I did.”

Most of his words were lost to me.  My eyes were stuck to
the pink vibrator held loosely in his big, strong hand, and a sort of
wind-tunnel roaring had filled my ears.  What—the holy hell—was he planning on
doing with that?

He set it on the table near my hip.  And then he lifted
me
and dumped me onto the table next to it.  I struggled a little bit, but he
lodged himself between my legs, and licked and sucked at my breasts until I
quieted down and quit fighting him.

Oh, this was not good.  He’d learned my weakness.

He was still sucking and kneading, the master-work of his
mouth consuming my attention completely, so I was only vaguely aware that he’d
shifted his hips back.  Something nudged against me, and as it started to push
inside, I realized it was cooler than his cock would have been, and it was
ribbed, and it—

“Ohhhh God,” I moaned as he turned it on.  He’d pushed it
fully into me, and those little rabbit ears were vibrating madly against my
clit, and with him sucking hard on my breasts, I was absolutely beside myself. 
I arched and cussed and moaned and dug my nails into his scalp, pulling on him
so hard I was probably threatening to smother him in my cleavage.

He didn’t seem to mind.  He just rumbled his deep, masculine
laugh, and then groaned.  I felt his cock, hot and throbbing against my thigh,
but my leg beyond that had gone tingly-numb.  My vision was sparkling again,
and my body was tightening.

“That’s it,” he said, tilting his face so he could watch
me.  “Cum for me.  I want to feel you gush on my hand.”  And he turned the
stupid thing up.

I arched so high, I was probably in danger of snapping my
spine.  There was absolutely no turning back with that thing pressed against
me, accompanied by the hot draw of his mouth on my sensitive nipple.  And when
I got to that highest point, and began to plunge down the other side, I’m
pretty sure I rattled the windows with my screams.

By the end of it, I was almost sobbing, and I would have
told you I’d seen God.  I couldn’t feel my face, I couldn’t do
anything
. 
My body was one big, throbbing mass of nerves.  I felt like I’d been put
through a forge and spat out onto my dining room table at over four hundred
degrees.  I got the distinct feeling I’d just fried brain cells.

That’s when he finally pulled the vibrator free.

I heard foil crinkle, and he dragged my hips to the very
edge of the table.  Then he pushed his cock into me instead.  It was a pretty
good-sized vibrator, but he was bigger.  Even so, it was laughable how easily
he slid into my soaked pussy.

He groaned.  “You’re so wet.”

Ya think?  After you made me cum three times inside an
hour?
  I guess it was a good thing I was still incapable of speech.

And it seemed like he was trying to keep me that way.  I
can’t even describe how good he felt, just the push and pull of him sliding
into me, the slick drag of him against my engorged flesh.  He wasn’t moving
fast, just slow and steady as if he were savoring every second, every single inch.

I finally blinked enough of the stars out of my eyes to
actually focus on him.  He was watching himself disappear into me, but he met
my gaze when he caught me looking.  I reached for him, and he obligingly bent
down over me.

I kissed him.  I kissed him like he was a hot fudge sundae
and I didn’t have a spoon.  It was hot and wet and sloppy, but he was right
there with me.  I dug my nails into his shoulders and sucked his tongue as I
felt him moving in me.  He groaned into my mouth, his hips propelling his
driving cock just a little harder.  The muscles in his shoulders flexed under
my fingers, and the angle was such that his pubic bone ground against my clit
with each sweet thrust.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I whispered into his mouth, finding my voice. 
He kissed me again, and I drank his groan.

He was breathing hard, his pupils wide, his face flushed. 
He looked like I felt; absolutely ransacked by pleasure, and addicted to the
feeling.

I’d had three orgasms already, but did I want to stop?  Hell
no.  I wanted more.  I wanted him, and every single shred of pleasure he could give
me.  And I wanted it now.

I tightened around him, intentionally milking his cock.  My
legs had been riding his waist, and I wrapped them around him so my heels dug
into his butt.

Gary got the hint, grabbing my hips so he could drive into
me.  The table creaked, and our flesh slapped, and each hard thrust felt
exponentially better than the last.

He was driving out the feel of everything else.  Cool tabletop? 
Didn’t care.  The fact that my vibrator shimmied and fell onto the floor? 
Didn’t notice.  The music in the background?  Shit, that was still on?