Melt For Him Page 15

  The gallery was harshly silent for a moment, and it was as if this connection between the two of them revolved around this moment. Because one week hardly seemed sufficient anymore. That he would miss her was more than apparent. That he wanted more of her was patently obvious to him now. “Or maybe when you go, you can come back from time to time,” he offered, his heart beating far too fast.

  She closed the distance between them, placing her hand on his chest. “Maybe I can. Maybe I would like that.”

  He let out a breath he barely realized he was holding. “Maybe I would like that, too,” he whispered, and he liked that they were saying maybe. It was a hopeful maybe; it was the suggestion of a promise, the possibility of more.

  He looped his hand around her tiny waist, curving his arm around her body. She trembled under his touch. His blood heated at the way she responded, and he was tempted to press her up against the stark white wall of this gallery, between the woman in the hat and the inked drawing of a skyscraper next to her, and kiss her so hard she’d forget her name.

  Drag his mouth across her skin. Hear her whimper.

  “Maybe we need to get out of here right now,” she suggested.

  “It’s like you can read my mind.”

  “Or your body,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows, and damn, if he wasn’t already hooked, she had reeled him all the way in tonight. Her easy way with him, with words and with laughter, made him want her more.

  “I need to be with you,” he said, his voice a rough scrape. “Come over. Spend the night with me. Let me make you breakfast in the morning. I’m off tomorrow. We can go for a run or make Mud Pie Brownies or whatever you want.”

  She parted her lips, breathed out, heat practically radiating in waves off her body. Her eyes were hazy with lust, but she managed a playful tease. “Becker, I’m gonna be blunt here. I sort of figured that’s the way the evening was going. Especially since my mom’s back in town, so I think your house is better than mine.”

  Holding hands, they left the gallery and headed to his truck. He opened the passenger door and let her in, memorizing every move of her beautiful body as she buckled into the front seat. He walked around and got in his side.

  “You look mighty hot on your bike, Megan. But you look even better in something a little safer.”

  “Like your truck?”

  “My truck. A car. Anything other than a bike.”

  “You trying to tell me you don’t want me riding a bike?”

  “If I had any say in the matter, that’s what I’d be saying.”

  “Well, I don’t see myself abandoning my bike anytime soon, just like I don’t see you abandoning your job anytime soon, so maybe we should just call that one a draw,” she said.

  “Touché.”

  “But you do like the way I look in your truck, you were saying?” she said in a purr, as she dragged her hand along her thigh. He hitched in a breath.

  “Now you’re not playing fair,” he said as he turned on the ignition and backed up.

  “I know,” she murmured as she played with the button on her jeans, teasing him with the possibility of her undressing.

  “I take it you want me to be able to drive.”

  She nodded. “I do. I want to be at your house.”

  The image of her spread out on his bed occupied every single thought he had as he drove to Hidden Oaks, his arms gripping the wheel tight because if they didn’t, then he’d be all over her. He could smell her in the enclosed space—the dizzying smell of that vanilla-sugar lotion she wore—and it made his mouth water for her. He’d already undressed her in his mind and was running his hands over her soft skin, his lips, his tongue, nipping at her, nibbling at that tantalizing flesh where her thighs met her backside. That delicious little line…

  She squeezed his thigh as he drove, and leaned in to plant hot kisses on his neck.

  “You’re making it hard to concentrate on the road,” he said.

  She palmed his erection through his jeans. He wanted to grab her hand and press down hard against his dick. “Hard is sort of the plan,” she said.

  He slowed at a light and turned to look at her. Her eyes were wild and playful. He moved in for a kiss, and he could feel her breath soft against his lips. But he pulled back when he was millimeters away, to give her a taste of her own teasing medicine. “You sure you don’t want me to take you home and give you a kiss good-night on the porch? Be a gentleman and all?” he asked as the light turned green and he continued down the road.

  She rubbed him through the fabric of his pants. “You better be taking me to your home tonight,” she said, then paused deliberately and unzipped her jeans some, her fingertips dancing perilously close to where he wanted to be tonight.

  He inhaled sharply as he turned onto his road. “Megan,” he said, his voice a warning. “When you play dirty, I’m going to have to punish you.”

  “How are you going to punish me?”

  “I’m going to tease the living fuck out of you until you’re begging me to make you come.”

  Now it was her turn to shudder. Judging from the way her chest rose and fell, she was as enticed by the idea as he was.

  Soon, they reached his house, and he parked next to her bike that she’d ridden over earlier. After turning off the engine, he reached for the car door but didn’t make it. In a second, she unbuckled and launched herself onto him, tangling her arms around him, capturing his mouth in hers, like a tiger diving in for a feast. He groaned and responded instantly, drawing her tongue deeper into his mouth, devouring her taste, her lips.

  She was heady, and every single thing about her lit up all his senses, including the intoxicating scent that made him want to run his tongue all over her body, from her ankle, up her legs, across her belly and her breasts, and then between her legs. He broke the kiss and she whimpered at the lack of contact, but then he bent his head to her neck and inhaled her. “You smell so fucking good,” he said, and licked her from her earlobe down the column of her throat.

  She moaned his name, and his cock strained against his jeans to hear her say that like he was the answer to all the fevered questions her body was asking.

  “Inside,” he growled. “Now.”

  Once inside his house, he watched her walk up the stairs, remembering the last time she was here. If he’d known who she was that first night, he’d never have taken her home. Thank God for anonymity. Not knowing was the best thing that happened to him, because it gave him the chance to be with her. Now, they had all night and all day tomorrow, too. But not much more. She’d be leaving soon. Too soon. Already, he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to say good-bye so easily. Or at all. For now, she was here. She was his, and he was going to take what he could get and savor it.

  She walked into his bedroom and turned around, her dark eyes saying everything.

  She raised her arms, and in seconds he was inches away, peeling off her shirt. He pulled back to enjoy the view, drawing in a sharp breath. She was beautiful. Strong arms, soft curves, and a flat belly that begged to be kissed. She wore a pink-and-white-striped bra that made him think of a candy cane, and then that made him think of nothing but what lay beneath that lace, so he unhooked the bra with one swift flick. The fabric fell to her shoulders and revealed her round, full breasts with dark pink nipples. He kissed one breast, tugging with his tongue and lips, as he cupped the other one, kneading her soft, supple flesh. She pulled him down onto his bed, wriggling under him, moans and whimpers falling from her lips.

  He could have spent all night on her breasts, but her belly was too inviting, so he rained kisses from the top of her ribs to the open zipper on her jeans. He could feel the heat from between her legs.

  “Take my clothes off. Please.” Her voice was raspy, full of heat and need, and the sound made his head cloudy.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Undress me now,” she said, and her voice was practically a pant.

  “If you insist.”

  She pushed off her boots as
he tugged her jeans down over her hips, his breath hitching at the sight of her nearly naked body once more. She wore matching striped panties that were so tiny they barely covered her. She kicked off her jeans as he slid a hand between her legs. Her panties were soaked, and he loved being able to feel her wetness all the way through the fabric. He lowered his head to her, inhaling her scent, and his raging hard-on was like steel now, knocking to be freed.

  “I’m so turned on, I’ll probably come the second you touch me,” she said.

  The idea of that thrilled him. “And you used to be the marathoner.”

  “Not with you. You know how to do everything to me to make me lose my mind,” she said. Her voice was all ragged, and she sounded both vulnerable and crazy turned on. She wanted him to fuck her and make love to her at the same time—his kind of woman.

  “Good. I like the way you are with me. Only with me,” he said, running his hands along her thighs and spreading her legs.

  “I want you so much. I need you now.” The look on her face was so sexy, and so desperate, and he could barely believe he’d done this to her. That she was giving herself to him so fully, with abandon, with a dark and desperate need.

  “If you were any sexier, it’d be a crime,” he said, as he settled between her legs, pulled her panties to the side and licked her once, his tongue drawing a line across her delicious pussy.

  She gasped, and her voice rose an octave. He looked up at her. “Hmm. I must not be doing it right.”

  “Please, Becker. Touch me again.”

  He looped a finger through the panel of her panties, swept her again, stopping briefly to flick her clit with the tip of his tongue. Another high-pitched moan fell on his ears as she rocked her hips into his face. He pulled back, giving her another playful look. “Hmm. You’re not there yet. What are we going to do about you?”

  She grabbed at his hair, trying to return him to the promised land.

  “No. I want you another way.”

  “Anything. Anything you want.”

  He moved up so he could kiss her mouth, and she grabbed hungrily at him as he tugged off her panties, leaving her naked and perfect beneath him. With his hands gripping her waist, he shifted her around so she straddled him as he lay on his back. He lifted her by her hips, hovered her over his chest, watching her expression as her eyes went wide with desire. He lowered her over his face, holding her thighs gently but firmly as he rocked her against his lips.

  Quickly, her breathing became heavier, and her pants turned into a random combination of Oh Gods and his name, over and over, as he drank her in, his tongue racing across her decadent wetness, the taste of her on his lips. He watched her the whole while, her breasts bouncing as she rocked against his mouth, one hand pressed against her face as if the pleasure were too intense for her to bear.

  His entire body felt alive and electric as he consumed her.

  Eyes closed, lips parted, she leaned forward, bracing against the wall for balance. Soon her movements became erratic, and her mouth fell open in a perfect O as she moaned and gasped. He gripped her hips harder, wanting to drown in her. She was a sight to behold as she fucked his face, and he zeroed in on her. Harder, faster, more furious, until she shouted his name and bucked against his mouth, losing the last shred of control as she went over the edge.

  He chased her with his tongue, savoring every delicious drop of her as the aftershocks spread through her body, and she shuddered several times but didn’t move. Her hands were still locked to the wall, it seemed, and her body was angled over him, and he could barely breathe, but he didn’t care, because he loved the fact that he’d just delivered a shattering orgasm to her, but yet it felt as if she’d fucked him like crazy.

  Maybe she had. Soon, she let go of her grip on the wall, then sank to his side, wedging her naked body against his clothed one.

  “Mmm,” she said dreamily, her fingers fumbling at his shirt. “It’s not fair that you have clothes on.”

  “So get me naked,” he said.

  She reached for his T-shirt, pulling it over his head. She stopped and drank him in with her eyes, her gaze setting his skin on fire as it roamed over his chest, his arms, his abs. Her hands fanned the flames as she skimmed them between his pecs, over his stomach, and down to his jeans. He toed off his shoes. She grappled with his belt buckle and jeans, letting them fall to the floor, then pushed his boxer briefs down too. He was completely aroused, aching for her touch.

  Her eyes looked wild as her hand was drawn toward him. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and he shuddered. They were both so fevered.

  “Condom,” he rasped out, barely able to speak in sentences as she stroked his erection. “Nightstand.”

  The moment was eerily familiar, as if they’d fallen into déjà vu, but everything was different now. Because they were different. They were no longer two strangers tangling in the sheets in his home. They were two lovers who knew each other. They knew each other’s fears, and hopes, and dreams. He wanted all of her, body and heart.

  She scooted across the bed and reached for the foil packet. She opened it and rolled it on him. There was something intensely erotic about watching her cover him. Maybe it was because her hand was on him, maybe it was because her eyes were locked on his the whole time, or maybe it was just because it was the calm before the storm.

  “Lie back,” he instructed her, and she did, sliding up toward the pillows. She was so beautifully fucking inviting and ready for him. He bent down between her legs, groaning as he traced a finger against her. He held on to the base of his cock and teased her pussy with the tip, rubbing against her hot wetness. She gasped and her legs fell open easily. He pushed the head in, then looked in her eyes, staying completely still.

  “Tell me what you want, Megan,” he said.

  She’d made it clear, but he wanted to hear it again and again.

  “You,” she said. “I want you.”

  “How do you want me?”

  “I want you inside me,” she said, and her voice was a wild plea, needy and hungry.

  His hands pressed into the bed on each side of her, his cock barely in her. “Tell me how sure you are.”

  “I’m so sure. I want you so much. All of you,” she said, and she looped her arms tightly around him, holding his ass, and trying to pull him in. “Make love to me now, Becker. ”

  Those were the magic words. He sank into her in one long, deep, driving thrust, and she made the sexiest sound when he filled her all the way up. She was so tight and her hot flesh surrounded him. She moved with him, slow and torturous strokes. She rocked her hips up, matching him thrust for thrust. He’d thought about this for days before last night outside his bar. He’d pictured another time with her, another chance in his bed, where he could have her the way he wanted. Now here he was, deep inside her, and she was wet and snug and gripping him hard. He reached for her leg, drawing it up over his shoulder.

  “Oh God,” she gasped.

  “You like that? You like being so open for me?”

  “Yes.” She breathed out hard.

  He draped her other leg over his shoulder, and now she was his, completely his, as he rocked deeper into her. With his weight resting on one arm, he ran his free hand down her body, from her neck to her breasts to her waist, the soft, teasing touch of his hand making her shiver, while the dizzying pace of his cock made her gasp relentlessly. She was losing herself to lust, to him, and he wanted her abandon. He drew a line across her belly, to the narrow space between their bodies, his finger sliding across her stomach, slick with perspiration.

  Then he dropped his thumb down between her legs, rubbing her clit. She jammed her hands into his hair, grabbing at it, pulling him closer, forcing him to tuck his face into her neck. “Harder,” she moaned, and he pressed his palms against the bed so he could surge into her, filling her to the hilt. She cried out, equal parts shock and savage pleasure as he slammed into her again and again, her voice rising, her cries a fevered pitch. She liked it hard, and s
he liked it when he was totally in control. He looked down at her, at the way she trembled, at how she bowed her back as he pumped deeper into her. She gripped his hair, fumbling for his mouth, grabbing at his lips with hers, her need for him rising into a frenzy.

  “Tell me you’re close,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

  “So close.”

  He pumped into her at a frenetic pace, and she clenched around him, her thighs gripping him tighter. “I love the sounds you make, Megan. I love all your noises, your moans and cries.” A bone-deep tingling shot through his spine. “I want to hear you come with me now.” One more thrust did her in.

  She shouted, and the sound of his name on her lips set him off. His climax tore through him, and he rode with her over the edge. She dragged her nails into his scalp, digging hard, and nothing else mattered in the whole universe except the absolute fucking heaven of coming with her.

  She shuddered under him, and her legs fell off his shoulders. Soon, he collapsed onto her and she wrapped her arms around his back, her hands gently rubbing the sheen of sweat on him. She’d been a workout, all right. He’d never come so hard in his life.

  “Be right back,” he said and headed to the bathroom to take off the condom and toss it into the trash, then clean up. He returned to the bed and curled up next to her.

  His heart still beat quickly, and he could feel hers too. He kissed her forehead, her cheek, then her lips, capturing her mouth with a long, slow, wet kiss that said as much about how he felt about her as the power of his orgasm.

  When he broke the kiss, she looked at him, her brown eyes dreamy and pretty. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He was in too deep. “I’m falling for you so fast, it’s scary,” he said.

  The scary part was what would happen when she left town. That was the real fear now—he was finally letting go and feeling again, and she was going to walk out of his life.