Seducing Steve Page 8

  Shit. She was so going to lose it, and he knew it. A ripple of pleasure surged beneath the taut skin of his cock, tickling her tongue. Sara moaned her defeat. The pleasure built inside of her, both intensified and muffled by his cock nudging the back of her throat. Unable to bear it, she released him with a cry, arching her back to rise onto her knees and grind against his questing tongue.

  “I don’t need you, you know,” Sara whispered.

  In a desperate attempt to reclaim a modicum of pride and self-control, she slid one hand over her belly, her fingers tangling in the thatch of curls covering her mound. Steve exhaled a sound that might have started as a word but ended up a few unattached syllables by the time he thrust his tongue into her pussy. Power surged through her veins; desire thrummed in her ears. Emboldened, she rode his tongue, circling her clit with her fingertips, driving herself up and hopefully driving him wild.

  “I don’t need you at all,” she murmured, lost in the swirl of sensation gathering low in her belly.

  “Yes,” he rasped, the word vibrating against her folds. “Yes, you do.”

  “No...” The word trailed off, carried away on the first burst of pleasure. She thrust her fingers into her pussy, giving herself over to hedonism and milking every ripple of pleasure that coursed through her body. Blind to the triumph lighting his face, deaf to the throaty grunts trapped beneath her, Sara threw her head back in surrender.

  Before the last wave of pleasure ebbed he pushed her forward, scrambling out from under her and pinning her to the bed with his hips and thighs. His wet cock throbbed against her ass. Steve manacled her hands above her head, holding them against the foot rail. He thrust into her, driving her across the mattress with the force of his need. Sara pressed her palms to the smooth wood, bracing herself against the onslaught.

  His rock-hard cock parted the lips of her pussy over and over again. He ground against her ass. Deep, throaty, animalistic groans and grunts ripped from his chest.

  “Oh, yes,” she panted. “Let go... Let go...”

  “This is what you want,” he panted. “You want me to fuck you hard.”

  “Yes. Oh yes!”

  “You want me...”

  Sara knew she had him. Her name tore from his throat. His shout bounced off the walls. The hard planes of his body bowed as he poured into her. He shuddered to a halt, burying his face in her neck as he pushed her down onto the mattress. His muscles grew loose and lax. She absorbed his weight, reveling in the solid strength of his chest against her back.

  “Okay?” she whispered.

  Steve pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek. “So okay,” he murmured, rolling back to rest on his heels. He rubbed a hand over his face, a chuckle of disbelief tumbling from his parted lips. “You?”

  Sara wriggled around until she righted herself. She flashed a Cheshire-cat worthy grin as she lunged for the headboard, stretching the length of the bed. His answering smile was a little shaky, but Steve flopped face-down onto the mattress beside her. Pink-cheeked and delightfully disheveled, he flung one possessive arm across her stomach.

  “My kink...” He sighed and pulled her closer.

  Sara smiled. “I was right about some things.”

  “Yeah?”

  Her fingers grazed his forearm. “The exact color of an old copper penny,” she murmured, stroking the hair gently.

  “Hmm.”

  Keeping her touch feather-light, she stroked her way to his bicep. When she squeezed gently, he flexed for her. “You’re pretty built for a desk jockey.”

  “Clean livin’ and lots of exercise.”

  Sara snorted. “Dirty exercise?”

  “Lately, yeah.”

  She turned to face him. Their noses brushed, and her lips reached for his, caressing them in the barest of kisses. Warm, moist breath washed over her damp skin. “I knew we’d be good. I knew I wasn’t just imagining this.”

  “Better than good.”

  A tentative smile curved her lips. “You make it feel okay.”

  “Okay?” he asked, feigning insult. “Just okay?”

  Humiliation burned her cheeks. “No! I mean, okay to want this,” she explained, waving one hand between them. “Like it’s not wrong.”

  Steve shook his head. “Wrong? Why would this be wrong?”

  “Well, not wrong...Not normal, I guess.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “This, us, the things we’ve been doing. The things we just did. The things I’d like to do,” she added, hoping to lighten the moment with a playful tease.

  “You’re saying they’re wrong?”

  “No! Hell, no. That’s my new favorite number. Me six, you nine...” she added with a leer.

  “O-kay...”

  “I’m just saying wanting them is wrong.” She stopped and shook her head adamantly. “Not wrong. Not!”

  An incredulous laugh sputtered from his chest. “Can we start this conversation over, darlin’? I’m completely lost.”

  She huffed and rolled onto her back, blinking at the ceiling a few times then squinching her eyes shut. “It’s not wrong,” she muttered between clenched teeth.

  “I didn’t say it was—you did.”

  Sara opened her eyes as she turned her head and pinned him with a glare. “No, Adam did.”

  He grunted like she’d just landed a punch to his gut. “Adam?”

  Sara nodded and flipped back onto her side, cradling her head on her arm. “Can we talk about this?”

  He averted his gaze. “I’m not even sure what ‘this’ is.”

  Baffled by his uncharacteristic evasiveness, she asked the blunt question. “Can we talk about Adam? About me and Adam?”

  After a pause that lasted a beat too long, he nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

  She smiled and leaned to kiss him sweetly before rolling onto her back again. Groping for the edge of the comforter, she pulled it over her. “He wasn’t my first, you know,” she began, shooting him a sidelong glance. “Adam was...I was so stupid.”

  “You were young.”

  His gruff tone startled her. She nodded slowly. “I was young. I was young, and I thought he was everything a girl could want.” She took a deep breath. “He looked so perfect, you know? He’s smart, and charming, and everything a woman should want.”

  “I’m not really sure...”

  “But he wasn’t what I wanted,” she said, holding up one hand to stop him. “God, I came back from my honeymoon disappointed. What does that tell you?” She pushed her hair from her face and stared at the ceiling. “I was always disappointed. There was no passion, no fire. Nothing ever got better, you know? I thought once we got away from here...once we were alone, things would be different. But we were never alone. There was always a meeting or a phone call...”

  “The guy was nuts.”

  Sara gave him a wan smile. “He wasn’t really interested. I was just the next step in his plan. He was thirty—time to settle down—I was available. Gullible and available.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I want you to understand. Because I want you to know why what we just did, what we’ve been doing, it’s more than okay.”

  Steve shook his head. “I’m feeling pretty dense, because I’m still not following you.”

  She blew out an exasperated breath and pushed up against the headboard, staring down at him, incredulous. “God, Steve, you met him. Can’t you figure it out?”

  He bristled at her impatience. “Apparently not.”

  “Let’s just say ‘this will just take a minute’ applied to more than ditching dinner to take a call.”

  “What?”

  Frustrated, she smacked his arm with the back of her hand and blurted, “He sucked in bed!”

  Sara clamped a hand over her mouth. A hot flush crept up her neck and her face burst into flames. Steve blinked at her like an owl then his laugh rumbled, rolling like thunder from his belly. She cringed at the wide smile wreathing his face. Gra
sping the edge of the comforter, she pulled it up to cover her burning cheeks.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “Oh yeah, it’s funny,” he insisted. Draping his arm over her waist, he tried to pull her closer. She resisted, one balled fist striking his chest. Steve laughed harder. “Oof, that’s gonna leave a mark.” He pinned her to the bed.

  “Let me go!”

  “God, I love you,” he said at the same time.

  The breath caught in her lungs. A lump formed in her throat. Her eyes opened so wide she wondered if they’d pop from her head. Steve continued to laugh, oblivious to what he’d said.

  “Sucked in bed! You weren’t using sucked as a verb there, were you, Sugar?”

  “You suck too,” she grumbled. She didn’t think it was possible, but the bastard laughed harder. “Let me go.” She punched his arm, and her knuckles bounced right off his tensed muscles.

  “No, I won’t, and yes, I do suck. I love sucking. I want to suck more. Harder. Deeper,” he laughed. “Let me suck some more right now.” He ducked his head, his parted lips fastening on the side of her neck.

  “You’re a jerk.”

  “At least I’m not an uptight jerk.” He nuzzled her ear. “I could never figure out how you ended up with that guy. I figured it was because he was so tight he shit diamonds.”

  Sara couldn’t help but giggle. “Steve!”

  “He wasn’t nearly good enough for you.” He drew her earlobe into his mouth and proved that he did indeed excel at sucking. “I could see he had no imagination, no spark.” He pushed up and stared into her eyes. “Sara, darlin’, you’re a goddamn inferno.”

  A smile twitched her lips. She reached up to smooth one cinnamon tinged eyebrow with her thumb. Steve leaned into her caress, and her smile blossomed. “You think?”

  “I know. I’ve been burned.”

  He dipped his head and nuzzled her neck. Sara bit her lip. The question was on the tip of her tongue, but she knew she couldn’t ask.

  He didn’t mean what he’d said. He did, but he didn’t.

  She needed to ignore it, to tamp down on that self-destructive impulse to ask. She already knew the answer. He might love her, but he didn’t love her the way she wanted to be loved.

  “Tell me more about how crappy old Adam was in bed,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Steve!”

  His chuckle came warm, breathy, and damp on her skin, evoking images of hot, sultry nights, cloyingly sweet iced tea, and lazily whirling fans. She pictured herself clad only in a slip a la Elizabeth Taylor, when his thick, honey voice interrupted the fantasy.

  “What? I like having my ego stroked almost as much as I like having everything else stroked.”

  As if punctuating his statement, he ran lazy fingers up her thigh, coaxing her to bend her knee. She obliged, running her hands through his thick, fiery hair as she cradled him against her hips.

  “Your ego doesn’t need stroking.”

  “Oh, but you’re wrong, Sara, darlin’.” He nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply. “I’m just a delicate, fragile little creature.”

  He cupped her bottom and squeezed roughly, his hands giving lie to his words. She felt his cock fill and lengthen against her belly. “You’re a sex maniac.”

  “Aw now, Sugar, I’m just tryin’ to help you out. You asked for my help, right? What are friends for?”

  His voice was soft, his tone teasing, but Sara tensed. A sharp edge cut through his devilish drawl, and the warning bells in her head started peeling madly. “I wanted you,” she confessed.

  Steve’s teeth scraped her neck, and she shivered. He laved her skin with his tongue, keeping his face buried in her neck as he ground against her. “You wanted me to what, Sara?”

  “I just...wanted you.”

  He drew her skin into his mouth, sucking hard and hot. A moan she couldn’t contain escaped. His chuckle vibrated through her as he began to move steadily southward. “You wanted me to fuck you.”

  The deep timbre of his voice vibrated against her breast. This time, she didn’t even attempt to swallow her moan. “Yes.”

  “You want me to do all the things that Adam wouldn’t do for you. All the things you’ve fantasized about.”

  She slicked her hands through his hair, pulling his head to her breast. “Yes. Oh, yes...”

  ****

  The tangled sheet wound around his leg like a biblical serpent. Her hair blanketed his arm, and her breath skittered through the hair on his chest. He lay immobile, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for his bones to solidify again and the faint hum of pleasure spent to ebb from his brain. If she handed him an apple, he would have swallowed it whole.

  Sara purred deep in her throat, the smooth skin of her leg rasping against his. “Aren’t you glad you stayed?”

  He inhaled deeply, trying to sort out the mixed emotions warring in his gut. “Yes,” he replied, knowing it was the most truthful answer he had. He hated himself a little when he gave in to the pleasure of stroking her back, his fingertips tracing the sinuous column of her spine. His voice was hoarse and gravelly when he said, “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  He hesitated before plunging ahead. “Are we together?”

  Her eyelashes fluttered, tickling his chest. His hand stilled while he waited for her response. “I guess,” Sara said at last. He let his hand fall back to the bed, absorbing the impact of her lackadaisical answer when her head popped up. “I mean, there’s no one else,” she rushed to assure him.

  A caustic comment teased the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it. “Are we dating?” “Dating?”

  He lost his grip on his tattered patience. “Shit, Sara, are we going to split every goddamned hair?”

  “No, I just...We don’t really go out, so dating seemed like kind of the wrong word.”

  “You’re the writer, pick whatever word you want. You know what I mean.”

  “I know what you mean,” she said, holding up one hand to ward off further argument. She stared into his eyes, and the fight drained out of him. “We’re...together?”

  “Okay,” he answered, holding her gaze.

  “Okay.”

  As if that brief discussion sapped what little energy she had, Sara collapsed onto his chest again. Steve threaded his fingers through her hair, letting the silken strands slide against his skin. “I’m not a slut, either,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  Sara snorted. “Yes, you are.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Uh-huh. Hey, I think I met a Christie you haven’t dated the other day.”

  “Hey!” A chuckle he couldn’t contain rumbled from his throat.

  “What?”

  “Did you really mean what you said about me and the guys in your books?”

  “Well, yeah... Kind of.”

  Stifling his impatience, he asked, “Kind of?”

  “Well, obviously they aren’t you,” she said, drumming her fingers against his chest. “I thought about you. About us.” Sara pulled back and peered up at him. “You did too, right?”

  Pleasure pulsed through him. She’d thought about him, fantasized about them. “Yeah,” he croaked. “Yeah, I did.” He cleared the lump from his throat and met her steady gaze. “The stuff you write, is that what you fantasize about?”

  A sly smile tipped her lips. She shook her head and jabbed a finger into his chest. “I asked first.”

  He grimaced. Words were her weapon, not his. It shouldn’t have surprised him how fast she could turn the tables again. Cornered, he fell back on an old stand-by. “I prefer to let my actions speak.”

  Sara grinned. “I love it when you get all stuffy and southern.”

  “I’m just sayin’...”

  “Oh, I’ve heard what you’ve said,” she teased. “I may have a filthy mind, but you have a filthy mouth, Mr. Larson.” Heat flooded his cheeks, and Sara cupped one in her palm. “It makes me crazy when you talk dirty to me.”

  �
�Crazy, huh?”

  “Certifiably insane,” she confirmed. “I know what it costs you, and I find it incredibly sexy,” she said in a low, sultry voice. “I love that I’m the one pushing your buttons. You let yourself go with me.”

  His fingertips trailed to the curve of her ass. Cupping the soft globes in both hands, he hauled her up to his chest. “What else makes you crazy?”

  Sara gave him an enigmatic smile. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

  He snorted. “How do I know when I’ve gone too far?”

  “I’ll tell you.”

  He nodded, lifting his head from the jumbled pillows to place a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips. “I have to go to sleep. One of us has to get up and go to work in the morning.”

  “I work,” she scoffed, affronted.

  “In your pajamas.”

  She gave his chest a playful swat. “I do not!”

  “I’ll just picture you sitting at the computer naked, then.” He nudged her onto her side so he could curl himself around her.

  Her snort was anything but lady-like. “I don’t write naked, either.”

  “Now, Miss Sara, why would you go and spoil a guy’s fantasies like that?” he whispered into her ear. “That’s just plain wrong.”

  Her drowsy chuckle made him smile. The scent of her shampoo tickled his nose. Her muscles grew lax, and he sighed, trying to focus on the contentment of the moment rather than the nagging fear that coiled in his belly like a snake.

  What if I’m not enough? What if I can’t give her what she wants?

  He closed his eyes, fighting to tamp down on the nagging worry taking chunks out of him in huge bites. He sighed then breathed deep, hoping the scent of her would calm him.

  Chapter Ten

  She awoke to his alarm. Sara hated that annoying Nokia tune even more than she hated black olives. His hand slapped the nightstand, and she heard him groping blindly in his quest to silence the pesky intruder. He rolled back to her, and she drew one leg up, scooting further away from him with a groan of protest. Steve chuckled—low, soft, and blatantly sexy.

  Soft lips moved across her bare shoulder, tender and searching. His hand slid over her hip, caressing the curve of her stomach, finally coming to rest just under her breast. Sara gave another half-hearted groan, but she couldn’t resist pushing back, moving against the hard length of his cock.