Authors: Susan Fox
Body Heat (34 page)
Now, both of them finished with the cheese and crackers and sipping a second glass of wine, he began to touch her—brushing her arm, caressing her thigh, dropping a kiss on her nose or cheek. Making her totally aware of him and getting her stirred up.
So she did the same back, slipping a finger inside a rip in his jeans, toying with his earring and taking the opportunity to caress the lobe of his ear. “I like your earring. It’s sexy.”
His finger tapped her cheek softly, here, there, and across her nose. “I like your freckles.”
“Oh, no, seriously? I’ve always wished I didn’t have them.”
“They’re cute, and then you blush so pink they disappear.”
“I hate blushing, too.”
“It’s sexy. Everything about you’s sexy.” He reached over and took her glasses from her shirt pocket. “Especially these.”
“Now I know you’re joking. I should get contacts, but they bother my eyes and—”
“No! Don’t get contacts. Jesus, Maura.”
“What?”
“You’ll spoil my fun.”
Her nose wrinkled in perplexity. “What fun?”
“It’s this game that drives me crazy. Whether you’re sexier with them on, or off.” He sounded dead serious.
“You are the strangest man.”
“Yeah, but you like me.”
She chuckled. “Yes, I do.”
Their gazes caught and held again. “And I like you back,” he said quietly. “You’re a special woman, Maura Mahoney.”
Stunned, she couldn’t find words to respond.
Jesse shifted, looking a little embarrassed. He reached over to twine a curl of her hair around his finger. “Your hair’s tousled.”
“Is it?” She’d forgotten to straighten it before leaving Cherry Lane, she’d been in such a daze.
He tugged out a hairpin. “It wants to come down.”
Now he was back to his teasing ways, and she felt more at ease. “Does it now?”
One by one, he pulled out the pins, and curl by curl her hair tumbled past her shoulders. When every strand had been freed, she leaned back and shook the heavy mass.
“Hair brush?” he asked.
Her mouth made an “oh.” He wanted to brush her hair? She couldn’t imagine a more seductive form of foreplay. “Bathroom counter.” She pointed down the hallway.
A moment later he was back, pulling up a chair behind her and sitting where all she could see of him was his reflection behind hers in the kitchen window.
She lounged blissfully as he worked out a few tangles with his fingers, then eased the brush through her thick hair, moving from roots to ends in long, sensuous strokes.
It felt almost sinful to be enjoying herself this way. Especially when her gaze caught on the plate of leftover cheese and crackers on the table. “I should put the cheese back in the fridge.”
“You should relax and enjoy.” He parted her hair at the back and teased the nape of her neck with soft kisses and little licks.
“It’ll go stale.”
“The world won’t come to an end. Let go of those rules every now and then, Maura. You don’t always have to be perfect.” His tone was teasing.
She gave a wry chuckle. “I’m far from perfect.”
“Perfect would be boring.”
But she
was
boring. She’d always thought that about herself, except in grade twelve with Sally. And ultimately, that had gone so wrong. “I believed it was better to be a boring good girl than a bad girl who got in trouble.”
was
boring. She’d always thought that about herself, except in grade twelve with Sally. And ultimately, that had gone so wrong. “I believed it was better to be a boring good girl than a bad girl who got in trouble.”
“Makes sense.” The brush kept moving, long past a hundred strokes. “You were that little girl who lost her parents, thought no one wanted you. Got taken in by folks who didn’t know how to care for you, or care about you. You had to be perfect. Probably, some survival instinct said that if you weren’t, they’d toss you out.”
A survival instinct. The most primitive, fundamental instinct in the world. “Maybe so.” She studied his vague reflection in the window. Jesse Blue, hot motorcycle guy and amateur shrink.
“But you’re grown up. You don’t have to be that kid anymore.”
“I . . .” Was that why she was so rule-bound, why she didn’t make waves, why she hated to disappoint Agnes and Timothy, and everyone else in her life? “That sounds kind of messed up,” she said slowly. “I should have gotten past the issues that affected me as a child.”
His hand stilled for a moment, then he went on brushing. “Yeah, and I should’ve figured out I wasn’t stupid. That there was some other reason I couldn’t read.”
“When you were a child, no one gave you reason to believe in yourself. And kids form strong beliefs.” She thought it through as she spoke. “Subconscious ones. We don’t always realize why we behave the way we do, so we’re not likely to change.”
“But when we realize what we’re doing . . .” He put the brush on the table and, standing, took her hands and pulled her to her feet. Voice low and husky, tawny eyes warm, he said, “You helped me see myself in a different way. See things I didn’t even realize were holding me back.”
“Yes,” she breathed. “That’s it. That’s what you’re doing for me.”
His hands framed her face, scooping the long hair back from it. “Seem to recall some talk about long, slow lovemaking.”
That memory was vivid. “And thorough. Don’t forget thorough.”
“Not a chance.”
He put his arm around her waist and guided her out of the kitchen.
She flicked off the light but left the scraps of cheese and crackers lying out on the table.
In the bedroom, candles left over from her bath experiment sat on the dresser and she lit them, rather than turn on the lights. They, together with ambient light coming in the window, would provide enough illumination.
When she turned from the dresser, Jesse held out his hands to her and she went to him. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, then finally her lips, each touch sending sparks of arousal darting through her. “Thorough,” he murmured. “Have to get every freckle.”
Thorough and naked would be even better. She eased back in the circle of his arms and brought her hands to the bottom of his T-shirt. She peeled it upward until his hands took over.
He pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor. His torso was perfect: strongly muscled, with those sexy curls of dark hair, those cute dark nipples.
Glancing below his belt, she saw he was already aroused. She ran her finger down his fly, pressing against the bulge inside, hearing his quick intake of breath.
“My turn,” he said, and started working on the buttons on her blouse.
She blessed the feminine instinct that had made her put on her peach lingerie this morning, and blessed it again when he unfastened her skirt and let it drop.
He scooped her up, carried her over to the bed, and put her down.
She tossed back the duvet and had barely stretched out on the ivory sheet before he’d stripped off the rest of his clothing and was following her down. He blanketed her with his body, hard where she was soft, and gave her one intense, toe-curling kiss. But then he eased away.
When she made a sound of complaint, he said, eyes dancing in the candlelight, “Thorough.”
He began to kiss her, starting at the hollow in her throat and working his way down until he suckled her nipple through the softly abrasive lace of her bra. The only part of her he touched was that one nipple. When she’d played with her nipples in the bath, she’d thought her breasts were unresponsive, but, oh, how wrong she’d been. Tingly heat radiated out from her nipple, and her lower body clenched and twisted with need.
Relentlessly, Jesse carried on, teasing her other nipple, then unhooking her bra and starting all over again with the first nipple.
What delicious agony.
Finally, he gave her a respite when he carried on, licking a teasing trail down over her ribs and belly, then circling the dip of her navel. He toyed with the lacy band at the top of her thong but didn’t peel it down. Instead, he breathed hot air through the skimpy fabric.
She shivered, guessing where his mouth was heading.
And yes—oh, yes!—now that seductive mouth was kissing her intimately through the narrow band of the thong. His tongue licked, probed, sucked, and she pressed herself demandingly against it.
But he moved away, kissing inner thighs, nibbling and licking her damp flesh, heading toward but just avoiding the places she really wanted him to touch. She squirmed, twisted, moaned her frustration.
He peeled her thong off and tossed it away, then finally he was back where she needed him, laving her swollen lips with his tongue, flicking gently at her clitoris—and yes, she most definitely had one and it was joyously operational.
But then he backed off again, not touching her but blowing air across her wet, swollen flesh.
He came back, retreated again, and each time he returned, the sensations were more intense, the need coiled higher and tighter inside her.
“Jesse!” she pleaded, unable to stand it any longer.
Now he swirled his tongue around her clit, flicked it, sucked it gently between his lips. She held her breath, and this time he didn’t leave her, he kept sucking until her body exploded with pleasure.
Thorough
. Oh, yes, there was a lot to be said for thorough.
. Oh, yes, there was a lot to be said for thorough.
When the ripples of climax faded, she knew what she wanted next: to explore Jesse’s body.
She forced her limp body into a sitting position and, trying to sound confident, said, “Lie down for me.”
He cocked an eyebrow but obeyed, settling on his back with his head on a pillow. He was so dark against her ivory sheet and pillowcase, with his beautiful brown body and the shiny black hair tangled around his face. He looked exotic, almost dangerous—yet, he was Jesse. Her friend; her lover.
Experimentally she ran a hand over his chest, felt the crispness of his chest hair, the bead of his nipple. Would he like it if she suckled his nipple, the way he’d done to hers? She leaned over and gave it a try, and he moaned in response.
This was good information for future reference, but at the moment her mind was pretty much one-track. Her hand drifted down toward his lean belly. His erection was a solid baton of flesh lying flush against his stomach, right straight up the middle all the way to his navel. It was a bit intimidating and she could hardly believe that all of that . . . masculinity had been inside her body.
It was exciting, too. The throbbing between her legs had started up again.
“Won’t break if you touch it,” he drawled.
He must think she was so naïve.
She summoned her courage and grasped him in her hand, wrapping her fingers all the way around his shaft, about midway down.
He sucked in his breath and she held still. Then he slowly let out his breath, and she began to move her hand, pumping up and down a few times. Next, she circled the head of his penis with a gentle finger, amazed at how velvety smooth his skin was there. She cupped his testicles one by one, surprised at how furry they were.
Jesse made encouraging sounds, little moans and purrs of satisfaction.
Her own body was growing more aroused, just as if he’d been touching her. But he wasn’t. This time he was leaving it up to her.
Emboldened, she bent down, her hair streaming across his belly, and licked him.
His hips jerked and he groaned, sounding like he was in pain.
Quickly, she lifted her head. “Am I hurting you?”
“Oh, yeah, you’re killing me.”
“Oh, Jesse, I’m sorry.”
He gave a ragged chuckle. “Killing me with pleasure, Maura.”
“Oh! Well, that’s . . . good.” She went back to what she’d been doing, licking every inch of him, then closing her lips around him and sucking. His musky, purely masculine scent was a potent aphrodisiac.
He caught a handful of her hair and tugged. “Come here and kiss me.”
She stretched over him, blanketing him, wriggling up his body for that kiss.
His mouth took hers, fiercely, and his hands grasped her buttocks, holding her tight against him. She wriggled some more until she was perfectly positioned on top of him.
His tongue thrust in and out of her mouth, in a rhythm that mimicked sex.
She sucked it.
He groaned again. “I need to be inside you.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Got protection?”
Condoms? He thought she was the kind of girl who kept condoms beside the bed? Actually, that was pretty flattering. “I don’t. You do, right?” He must. They couldn’t stop now.
“In my wallet.”
She scooted off the bed, found his jeans, and brought his wallet to him. He extracted the little package, tossed his wallet onto the bedside table, and handed her the condom.
Startled, she almost dropped it. He wanted her to put it on him? She’d never done that. Her two lovers had always taken care of this aspect of the process, and she had averted her eyes discreetly.
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