Forever With You Page 20

  “Fucking beautiful,” he breathes. Then in a flash, he’s out of his briefs and I’m flat on my back on my bed with him above me, his mouth devouring mine in a soul-altering kiss.

  I completely open myself to him. Our tongues tangle and our breaths become one in a dizzying whirl of desire and lust.

  Lord, he can kiss. He’s always known the right amount of pressure to exert. He knows when and where to lick. I let out an approving moan when he takes my bottom lip between his and sucks. He’s good at that too. Sucking. The abrasion of his chest hair on my breasts is driving me crazy and the ache in my pussy has become ever-expanding.

  Shifting his attention lower, he places open-mouth kisses on my neck. “Tell me what you want.”

  “Kiss me.” Fuck me. On a fast track to being lust-addled, I’m still not brave enough to say it out loud, but another drugging kiss would be a good start to loosen my inhibited tongue.

  Levering himself up, his gaze darts from my face down to my breasts. “What about here?” Before I can respond, he lowers his head and takes a rigid peak into his mouth, the first pull on my nipple causing a jolt of pleasure that shoots straight down to my sex.

  “Oh God, yes,” I cry out, unable to contain myself as my fingers sift through the thick strands of his hair. When he switches to torment the other breast, my hips have a mind of their own. My body wants what it wants, and right now what it wants most is to have the heavy weight of his cock driving into me.

  He releases my nipple, making a sound that resembles a soft grunt, his mouth coasting down the lower swell of my breast and then kissing a line down the line of my stomach. He proceeds lower and lower as the agony of anticipation and desire takes hold of me, refusing to let go.

  He places a lingering kiss at the bare spot just above my pubic hair and I’m torn between my body’s need for oxygen and the voice in my head telling me not to move a muscle, terrified if I do he’ll stop.

  His head now positioned between my legs, his mouth inches from my sex, his gaze lifts to find mine, and I’m scorched by the heat of his blue eyes. “What about here?”

  My vaginal muscles contract from the warmth of his breath. My body unlocks enough for me to let out a whimper.

  Yes. Oh God, yes!

  I can’t tell if the sound he then makes is a laugh or a groan, or a sexy combination of the two, but what follows is pure unadulterated bliss. And sweet agony. The deft probe of his tongue comes first; a teasing jab, then an indulgent lick the entire length of the outer lips.

  Mother of God. My back arches, my hips shoot up and my neck arches back.

  Pleasure radiates out in every conceivable direction possible. His hands cup my ass as he holds me in place for the delicious onslaught of his lips, teeth and tongue.

  He’s as methodical as he is utterly ruthless about making my body bow to his command, leaving me bereft of control. His five o’clock shadow is the added sensation I didn’t know would enhance the pleasure but is working miracles right now.

  My hands clutch blindly for the sheets as my orgasm approaches and like a tornado it destroys everything in its path: my senses and body are under siege and overwhelmed. I’ve never made the sounds coming from my throat before. His name is on my lips as I plead, demand and gasp for surcease.

  The sudden introduction of several fingers thrusting into me is startling. His mouth latching onto my clit eliminates my ability to think. My entire existence narrows to the orgasm that barrels through my body intent on consuming me whole.

  I come harder and longer than I have since…forever. It’s the type of orgasm I could never give myself. Pleasure so acute words can’t ever adequately describe it.

  After my hips buck with the last contraction, my mind goes blissfully blank. I keep my eyes closed.

  Graham’s movements don’t disturb me and the sound of a foil crinkling barely registers. What does make me open my eyes is the blunt tip of his cock at my opening. My breath hitches as he thrusts and lodges himself firmly inside. My pussy grips him tight.

  “Fuck,” he exclaims, and then stills, head back, eyes closed as if determined to savor the moment. The snug fit of us.

  My noodle legs find the strength to lift up, circling his hips as my arms pull him down to me.

  “You don’t know how good you feel,” he mutters, his tone almost reverent.

  I contract my inner muscles, tightening my hold on his cock. “Ditto,” I pant, having not yet fully recovered my breath.

  His long groan is followed by a strong thrust and a swipe of his tongue over my nipple. Pleasure thrums anew through my body. With his every thrust, I’m filled to capacity as I begin the climb again. His movements begin to quicken sharply, and soon he’s pummeling into me. Harsh sounds of flesh slapping, grunts, whimpers and labored breathing fill the room.

  He’s able to bring me back to the precipice within minutes of my last orgasm. Some things never change no matter how long we’re apart. I reach the peak, frantically clutching him, unmindful of what my fingernails are doing to the smooth skin of his back. Seconds later, Graham lets out a hoarse shout, shuddering from the force of his release.

  This time I keep my eyes open and take additional pleasure in watching him at his most vulnerable. Sweat rolls down his temples and has his hair matted to his forehead. I run my hands slowly down the damp, taut flesh of his sides, desperate to maintain our skin-to-skin contact.

  He stares down at me as we both struggle to catch our breath. After being so physically intimate, deriving so much pleasure from each other, I find it a little unsettling that I can’t fully decipher the expression on his face.

  Does he regret it? Will his walls go up again?

  Please God, don’t let him regret it, because I don’t. Not one bit. There’s also the fact that we’re naked and he’s still inside me.

  His expression softens and a sexy smile spreads slowly across his face. “That was amazing.”

  Relief replaces worry at his softly spoken words. My palms make circling motions on his hips and gorgeous butt.

  “It was,” I reply with a happy smile.

  He leans forward and drops a kiss on my lips. “You’re gorgeous.”

  My lips cling to his when he tries to pull away after only a taste. I don’t know when I’ll ever get enough of him. I’m not sure there’s such a thing as enough or too much of Graham Preston in my vocabulary.

  “Woman, have some pity,” he says with a chuckled groan. “Let me take care of business and then I’m all yours again.” With that he slips out of me and does just that, walking buck naked to the bathroom next door to discard the used condom.

  He’s back in my bed, our bodies flush before mine has time to miss the warmth of his too much. And, can I say the sight of him—the man is ridiculously hot, with a body that looks fantastic coming and going—is worth the brief deprivation.

  “How many washrooms do you have in here?”

  I snuggle closer to him, laying my head on his chest as he adjusts his arm, his fingers playing idly with the wreck that must be my hair right now.

  “Bathrooms,” I correct him. “And there are two.”

  He laughs and I feel the vibration of it against my cheek as his chest shakes. “I don’t suppose what’s-his-name steps foot in the one I was just in? You know, the one with all the yellow and lace.”

  I refuse to apologize for my and April’s decor preference. “His name is Troy and the colors are Tuscan sun and honey, and there’s only lace on the shower curtain. Anyway, it’s pretty, it matches and it’s clean, which is what counts.”

  Grinning, Graham presses a kiss on my forehead. Happy, I tip my head and purse my lips. He eagerly obliges, kissing me deeply and taking his time about it. I’m flushed and panting by the time he finally pulls back.

  “We’re now down to two condoms. Do you have any?” he asks, his fingers plucking at my nipples.

  “No. But April and Troy have some.” For emergencies, per April, since she’s on the Pill.

  He mak
es an approving sound in his throat as he continues to toy with my nipples. The throbbing between my legs follows a familiar drumbeat of want, need and desire.

  “Does that mean you don’t think two will be enough?” I ask in a throaty voice.

  He flashes me a wicked smile. “I don’t know. Why don’t we find out,” he whispers, before lowering his mouth to mine.

  Chapter 23

  I roll onto my back, spent and sated. I don’t mind that my lungs have to work like bellows as I try to catch my breath. Nothing makes waking up better than morning sex and an orgasm with the power to shred your insides. I flop my head to the side and take in Emily’s flushed cheeks, sweat tangled hair and her beautiful tits rising and falling in rhythm with her labored breathing.

  Christ, she’s something else.

  “When are your flatmates due back?” I’d checked the time when she’d gone in search of another condom earlier and it had been eight-thirty. It must be creeping up on ten by now.

  “Probably not until after twelve,” she replies, smiling softly at me.

  Something nudges in my chest at the satisfied, dreamy-eyed look on her face. A feeling I don’t want to acknowledge. The girl is that potent.

  “Then I better get my arse in gear.” Better I not cross paths with the friend who had been with her at the mall. As first impressions go, mine sucked.

  Emily doesn’t say anything when I get out of bed, grab a tissue from the Kleenex box for the condom. This time I pull on my briefs before I head to the washroom.

  There, I toss the condom in the bin and make use of the loo. Before leaving, I take the time to throw water on my face and help myself to the mouthwash on the counter. I blame the sound of running water for what happens next. Me stepping out into the hall and coming face to face with her flatmates.

  As we stand frozen staring at each other, Emily comes dashing out of her room, belting a pink, silky robe around her waist. She screeches to a breathless halt in front of me in a valiant attempt to protect my modesty.

  “You’re home,” she chirps in a high voice. A blush stains her cheeks hot pink.

  Her friend gapes as she takes us in. Contrarily, the boyfriend treats me to a look of dubious disdain. I wonder if Emily or her friend said something to him about me or if he acts this way with every guy who spends the night with her? The latter thought leaves a bad aftertaste.

  “And you…” her friend gestures at our state of undress, “have company,” she finishes, the shocked look yet to leave her face.

  Feeling more than a little conspicuous in my underwear, I mutter an excuse and return to Emily’s room, where I throw on my clothes and run my fingers through my sweat-dampened hair. It’s a good thing the short cut doesn’t require much maintenance but a comb or brush would come in handy right about now.

  I can no longer hear the muffled voices in the hall by the time I’m presentable. I open the door to spot Emily making her way toward me.

  I lift an eyebrow in question. She grimaces in response.

  “Go,” she says as she passes me in the doorway. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Is it safe?” I’m only half teasing. I could be walking into a blood bath.

  “They promised me they’d be good.”

  I laugh wryly. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  She disappears into her room and now that I’m fully clothed, I’m ready for a more formal introduction to her friends. It can’t be that bad.

  I arrive out front to find them standing next to the kitchen counter whispering to each other. On my approach, they turn their attention to me.

  April breaks the ice, stepping up to me, her hand outstretched. Contrary to the delicate slimness of her hands, her handshake is firm and self-assured. I remember you and I’m not afraid. “Hi, Graham, I’m April. I believe we’ve met before.” The teasing note in her voice belies the faint smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.

  My face warms in embarrassment. “Right. Sorry about that. Not one of my finest moments.”

  “Let’s put it down to shock and leave it at that. This will be a new start.” She smiles, and this time it’s a gorgeous ear-to-ear grin. “This is my boyfriend Troy.”

  Beautiful girl. Glad to see she has a sense of humor and a forgiving nature because it’s obvious her boyfriend does not. His attitude hasn’t improved one bit since our encounter in the hall. He’s still looking at me as if I’m the year’s most unwanted guest.

  Be the bigger man. Shake his damn hand. You did curse at his girlfriend the first time you laid eyes on her.

  I extend my hand to him. His gaze moves from my face to my hand, only shaking it after a notable pause. I’m not sure if he’s purposefully attempting to crush my fingers but he certainly seems to be giving it his best.

  I make sure to give as good as I get, gripping his hand just as hard during our perfunctory handshake. How’s that, Mr. Tough Guy?

  He continues to eye me with undisguised hostility. “Hurt her again, and you’ll answer to me,” he warns.

  “Troy, stop that,” April scolds, clutching his arm.

  So this is about Emily. Interesting. He can’t know the whole truth if he thinks she’s the one who’s been hurt in this whole ordeal.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not sure what Emily’s told you—”

  “Nothing. I’ve told him absolutely nothing,” Emily interrupts, seeming to appear at my side from out of nowhere. Dressed in yoga pants and a long, heavy sweater, her dark hair looks freshly brushed, streaming down past her shoulders to the middle of her back.

  After sharing a pointed look with April, she glares at Troy. What the hell are you doing? “I apologize for Troy. Sometimes he takes his self-appointed role as my overprotective older brother too seriously. He forgets I already have two who take the job seriously enough.”

  Her “brother’s” expression doesn’t change one iota. The guy doesn’t like me and he doesn’t care who knows it. The guilty look on her girlfriend’s face suggests she may have more to do with his attitude than Emily.

  I clear my throat. “Look, Em, I need to head out.” I turn and address April. “It was nice meeting you.” Her boyfriend can go fuck himself.

  “You too,” April replies, nudging her boyfriend with her elbow.

  All that elicits is a brisk nod in my general direction, his eyes not fluctuating from its temperature reading of zero Celsius.

  Emily hustles me out of the apartment and I’m more than eager to go. Her flatmate’s a tool.

  Once we’re out in the hall, I peer down into her troubled gaze. I know what has her worried and I have this overwhelming need to remove the crease from between her eyes. We have stuff to talk about but this isn’t the place or time.

  “It’s obvious that when your friend saw me in my underwear, he was intimidated, and who can blame him, right? His poor girlfriend was standing right there. Men hate feeling inferior and it makes them act like dicks.” I nudge her chin up with my thumb. “Cheer up. I had a great time last night and this morning.”

  She proceeds to blind me with her smile. “I knew that’s what it was. He’s jealous,” she says, grinning.

  “I’ll call you later and see you at work tonight, okay?”

  She nods happily.

  I take my time kissing her goodbye, savoring the sweet taste of her lips and the eagerness of her response.

  I might not know where this is going, but I don’t want to think about that now. Right now, I just want to enjoy the moment.

  I arrive home twenty minutes later to find Blake sitting at the dining room table, an empty plate in front of him and a huge mug of coffee in his hand.

  His eyebrows rise when he sees me. “I thought you worked last night.”

  I drop into the chair adjacent to his. “I did.”

  He huffs a laugh. “My uncle now making you guys do all-nighters?” This is his way of asking where I’ve been all night but the words won’t come. Not willingly or easily.

  At my silence, he asks, “W
hat? You hook up with someone?”

  Oh for fuck’s sake, just tell him. What’s he going to do to you?

  I nod. “I spent the night at her place.”

  Blake smirks and waggles his eyebrows. “Is she hot? You seeing her again?”

  “Most likely. Maybe. I don’t know.”

  His brow furrows and now he’s looking at me suspiciously. Or as if I’m off my rocker. The sound of my fingers drumming on the laminated wood surface fills the silence that follows. I don’t exactly look him in the eye, which is a big mistake because a second later his chair scrapes back and he’s on his feet, staring down at me accusingly.

  He places his cup on the table and leans in. “Jesus H. Christ, you slept with her, didn’t you?”

  Her. Emily.

  We both know who he means because there can only be one person who’d elicit that reaction from him.

  I don’t answer. Hell, I can barely look at him.

  My silence has Blake shaking his head as if I’m the saddest sack of shit he ever saw.

  “You must be a glutton for punishment.”

  No, I’m not. But I’ll save that for when he’s not raking me over the coals.

  “So tell me this,” he says, leaning down and resting his fisted hands on the table in front of me. “While you were fucking her, did you forget how badly she fucked you over the last time? Or is the pussy so good it brings on a fatal case of amnesia?”

  “It’s not like that,” I say, rising to my feet.

  He straightens to his full height and we’re now eye-to-eye and toe-to-toe. “Then what’s it like? The last time you said anything to me about her you’d have done anything to get her out of your life. And have you forgotten you have a girlfriend? Did that happen to slip your mind?”

  “We broke up,” I say, my tone defensive. I don’t cheat, period.

  “When did that happen?” he asks, surprised.

  “Yesterday,” I mutter.

  He lets out a derisive snort as he takes a step back. “And last night you’re boning your ex? Oh, that’s good. How’d you make it through the what, five, six hours? It’s like you don’t fucking learn. The chick messed up your life.”