She pulled on the skin of his neck, sucking hard. His head tipped back as he groaned again, his fingers tightening another degree. “That feels so good. I love your mouth on me.”
Her lips curved against his skin as she smiled. Who knew she had the ability to arouse him the way he aroused her? It was empowering.
Her hips slowly started to rock. A delicious friction bloomed between her thighs. His mouth found her and she was suddenly being lifted and turned. Her back pressed into the cushions as his weight settled over her.
His hand dragged along the underside of her thigh, lifting her knee as he pressed his erection into the apex of her pants. He squeezed the back of her leg and ground his body into hers. Her hands smoothed down the back of his head as she held him to her, kissing him deeply.
He never tried to undo her pants or slip a hand under her shirt. It was all about kissing, that sweet groping over clothes, grinding into one another that was the essence of true making out.
They twisted and rolled, her nipples straining against her clothing, his hard arousal digging into her thigh. They needed more room.
Breathlessly, she pulled back and nudged him into a sitting position. “Let’s go to my room.” He stared at their clasped hands and hesitated as if weighing his options.
Please don’t reject me now.
Hesitantly, he stood and her gaze remained on the ground as she led him to her room. The short walk dragged out her thoughts and trepidation as if it were a mile. When they reached her room she placed a soft kiss on his jaw.
“What are we doing, Kat?” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” she whispered back, as her mouth made a slow drag down his neck. “Show me what to do.”
“To what point?” His voice was thick, as though she were causing him pain.
Her cheek nuzzled against his chest as their fingers laced to their sides. “As far as it’s safe.” She timidly looked at him, begging him not to throw her request in her face. She trusted him and she hadn’t trusted another person in such a long time. “Show me, Tyson.”
He leaned down and skillfully kissed her, taking complete control. His fingers plucked at the hem of her tank top, slowly lifting it over her head, breaking the kiss. His eyes devoured her body, heating her skin, as she stood before him in white drawstring yoga pants and a cotton bra.
Trying not to shrink from his scrutiny, she met his gaze and forced her hands into fists, refusing to cover herself. This was her. She wasn’t perfect and she wasn’t rail thin, but she was real, and this was the only size she came in.
His thumb trailed over her cheek and down her jaw. Chills skated over her flesh as his forefinger trailed to the valley of her breasts. The backs of his knuckles curved over the slight swell and goose bumps crested her shoulders. “You take my breath away, Kat.”
“I want to touch you too.”
His hand fell away as he pulled his shirt over his head, dropping the garment to the floor. Her palm lifted to his chest. There was such contrast between her lily-white fingers and his dark skin.
His nipples were deep brown and flat, while hers were delicate and pink. Her feminine softness against his strong, hard maleness was perhaps the most erotic contrast of all. He was a beautiful man, so chiseled and hard. She traced the lines of his muscles and noticed that in the deep valleys of each bulge his skin became darker, truly almost black in parts.
“You’re so fit and solid. It makes me want to cover myself and hide.”
Her gaze moved to the bed. Maybe if they just moved to the bed and she could get under the covers—
“Women aren’t supposed to be solid, they’re supposed to be soft, like you, kitten. I love the way you look. Don’t hide yourself from me.” He gently unwound her arms from her belly and pressed his lips to her neck. “You’re beautiful just the way you are.”
Kisses feathered across her shoulder as the strap of her bra slid down her arms. The weight of his fingers closed around her wrist. Lifting her arm, he turned her so her back was against his front and she faced the bed.
Knuckles dragged seductively up and down her spine and the clasp of her bra released. Her head lowered as his lips pressed against the nape of her neck, softly kissing, as the garment fell to the floor.
Crouching low, he kissed the base of her spine and slid his tongue upward, slowly rising. Sweeping her hair off her shoulders, he slid his touch down her arms and gently captured her wrists, lifting her arms. Open mouthed kisses trailed down her arm to the tender inside of her elbow, the pulse at her wrist, and he placed a kiss in the center of her palm. She visibly shook with need as he turned her to face him.
“Lie down.” He eased her on the mattress. The bed dipped as he leaned over her. A touch of fear threatened to interrupt the moment, but she reminded herself that this was Tyson. So long as he continued to look into her eyes she felt safe.
Kissing her deep and slowly, the firm press of his chest, flesh on flesh, dragged over the sharp points of her nipples and she moaned. His lips traveled toward her breasts as he slid lower. Calloused hands cupped her breast, as his warm mouth closed over her nipple. A gasp escaped as his lips pulled tight.
While his mouth did wonderful things to one tight peak, his hand held her other breast, his thumb and forefinger moving back and forth over the pebbled nipple. The scent of their bodies blended. Her hands gripped his arms as he released her and blew cool air over her wet skin.
His fingers tugged at the strings of her pants and her stomach flipped in anticipation as her clothes loosened. Lifting her hips, the worn cotton pulled over her thighs as he gently tugged. Silk lifted as her panties slid away.
His mouth returned to her breasts, his breath softly teasing her skin, adding yet another delicious sensation as his fingers ran over the dewy nest of curls covering her sex. Excitement rolled over her, through her as the press of his work-roughened finger skimmed over her delicate opening. Her heart raced and she swallowed back the taste of fear.
He separated her moist folds and she trembled with building anticipation. The press of his finger was so unfamiliar, so forgotten, her mind needed a moment to adjust to the slow intrusion. He sensually moved it in and out of her as his mouth nipped and pulled at her nipples.
Body tight, she held him to her as he kissed his way down her belly, shifting his position on the bed so he could suck on her hip and lick the crease of her thigh. No one had ever kissed her there.
Liquid heat pooled between her thighs as her skin tingled from the tops of her ears to the tips of her toes. She writhed as he held her hips, pressing her ever so slightly into the soft mattress.
“Open for me, kitten.”
Warm breath fanned over her sensitive folds. Dear God. It was the most intimate position she’d ever been in. She was completely exposed. His soft mouth teased the top of her sex and she was assaulted by indescribable pleasure.
His thumbs separated her slit as he licked at the opening of her sex. Her oversensitive flesh wept as he sipped from her. Her body drew tight like a bow as his thumb nudged her clit.
She let out a hoarse, startled cry at the intense sensation of his tongue softly licking her as his fingers expertly penetrated. Her muscles tightened as his lips closed over the tight bud.
Flashes of the last time he’d touched her there broke into her mind and mingled with images of the present. Pent up energy tightly coiled beneath her skin. The waves built faster and faster. Her lungs struggled to breathe as she swallowed great gulps of air. Fisting the blankets, her muscles drew taut as an orgasm swelled inside of her.
She gasped as her head moved from side to side. Deeper, faster, he worked her over as the waves continued to build. And then he found that magical spot someplace deep inside of her. Fingers firmly pressing upon that secretive place of pleasure, his mouth sucked hard, she shattered.
Her legs tightened as her back bowed, pressing further into his touch. Her body racked with shudders as the sheets clung to her dewy skin. Never had she been so aware of h
er flesh, her bones, her blood rushing through her veins. The throb of her heartbeat pounded between her thighs. Moans reverberated off the walls as she swelled beneath his tongue. There was nothing better than that moment when every part of her simply let go.
As her quaking muscles trembled into slow quivers, he gently pulled away. He placed kisses on her inner thighs and the most sensitive points of her knees. She lay motionless, aside from a spontaneous spasm every few seconds that came in the aftermath of her climax.
He lay beside her and drew her close. Muscles were too weak to move on their own. Wrapping her naked body in his arms, he kissed the back of her shoulder. She sighed in complete contentment and ignored the distant echo of clamoring concerns.
His chest pressed into her with solid reassurance. The strength of his body was the only reminder that she still existed. His breathing leveled out and, though his hold grew lighter, the cocoon around her seemed to tighten.
Her thoughts slowly swam to the surface of her mind.
“Sleep, kitten,” he whispered as his body nestled more into hers.
Eyes wide, Kat stared at the wall of her bedroom. Her mind counted cracks in the plaster so not to count all the ways she was losing her heart to this man. Never in her life had she experienced such pleasure, but it wasn’t just pleasure. It was conversations. It was common courtesies. It was his soothing company. No one, before Tyson, had ever showed her such tenderness.
She was no virgin, but what she was sharing and building with him was so much more than sex, so much more than anything she’d ever experienced before. The closeness, the opening of her soul and bearing of secrets, it was new territory she hadn’t anticipated crossing.
She’d worried about sex, about consequences, and morning after awkwardness, but her slow, lust-muddled mind never considered there might be bigger things to fear.
She wasn’t ready to bare all, but he was driving her there. There was some unnamable part of her, perhaps her mind, perhaps her heart, perhaps her fears and worries, and doubts that he saw. It was as if he could see into her soul.
She wasn’t ready to trust another person that much. It was disconcerting to know he’d seen her so vulnerable, saw how desperately she needed to be touched, how starved her soul was for the most minimal affection. He cracked her open and exposed the emptiness inside. She defensively wanted her secrets back, didn’t want anyone to know how incomplete she was.
He’d fallen asleep and all she could do was lie there, frantically following one insane thought to another. There would be no meaningless sex between them. He would demand all of her, mind, body, and soul. Sharing her body was a hurdle, but sharing all those other parts seemed like an impossible mountain to climb.
Chapter Eleven
Kat’s shoulders pulled tight as her fists clenched at her chest and she shivered. Her front was freezing, but her back was burning up.
Just pull the blanket up. No. Too cold to move.
Slowly, opening her eyes in a series of widening blinks, she admired the pretty pink hues of sunlight reflecting on her wall. It was almost dark, marvelous shades of burnt amber and violet piercing the curtains as the sun set.
Sunset?
“Mother fucker!” Bolting off the bed, her foot snagged on a pillow and she fell to the floor with all the elegance of a cord of firewood being dumped.
Her mind snapped into overdrive as she shot to her feet and saw Tyson lying across her covers barefoot, in nothing but jeans. This was so not good. Eyes wide, she breathed fast, thinking of the quickest way to get him out of there.
He cracked open an eye and frowned. “What was that? You okay?”
“You have to go! Ohmygod, you have to go!”
She scooped up his shirt and socks and threw them at his legs. Grabbing his left shoe, she frantically searched for its mate, like a dog turning in repetitive circles before it sits.
“Kat, what’s wrong?”
“My mother’s going to be here any minute with Mia!” She anxiously continued to search for the shoe and didn’t waste any time looking at him. No time for distraction! How hard could it be to find a size thirteen shoe? It was the size of a canoe for Christ’s sake. “Where the hell is your other shoe?”
“Baby, calm down, my shoe’s right there. So what if your mother comes here? You’re a grown woman. This is your house. You’re allowed to—”
“You don’t know my mother!” Her voice turned unattractively shrill as she tossed him his other shoe and winced when it nearly landed on his crotch. “Sorry.”
Suddenly realizing she was buck naked, she snatched up her shirt to shield her private parts and hastily found the rest of her discarded clothing. Doing an unattractive one-legged hop, she jumped into her pants, foregoing her underwear.
Readjusting her inside out tank top, she slid it over her arms and popped her head through the collar like a whack-a-mole popping from its hole. She wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to club her as she bordered hysteria. “Get dressed!”
His face darkened like a thundercloud as he stared at her. He could think whatever he wanted. He didn’t have to answer to Vivian.
Neither do you. Oh, shut up.
Her fingers frantically combed through her bed head as he shook his head and sat up. “I think you’re overreacting—”
“Tyson, please, don’t make an already complicated situation worse. I don’t feel like answering questions or getting the third degree. Mia will be here. I don’t want her wondering about us yet.”
He stood staring at her, but said nothing.
It was a copout, using Mia to push him out, but there wasn’t time to explain what a psycho her mother could be. Swallowing back the heavy sense of guilt, she focused on fixing the bed.
Looking disappointed and resigned, he started moving. Once his shoes were on he rolled his eyes, pecked her on the cheek, and left. An unsatisfying relief washed over her at the sound of the door shutting behind him.
Not five minutes after he left, her mother arrived with Mia. Kat was still flushed from the exertion it took to try to look like everything was normal. She forced herself to slowly walk out to Vivian’s car. “How was your visit?” Her mouth curved into a nervous smile and Vivian frowned.
“Katherine, what is going on with your hair?”
A hand nervously fluttered to her head and patted down her frizz. “I…I was vacuuming and the vacuum jammed. I had a hard time unclogging it.”
Vivian’s lips pursed, as she made no comment, vacuuming being something her mother never discussed.
Mia jumped into her arms. “Look what Grandpa gave me.”
Kat ignored her mother’s critical stare and showed great fascination with the small model schooner Mia held. “Wow. Very cool.”
A disapproving sniff came from Vivian’s direction. “Okay, Mia darling, give me a hug goodbye.” Mia leaned off of Kat’s hip and hugged her mother. “Katherine, I’ll see you Tuesday.”
The mention of Tuesday made her inwardly cringe. This was the last time she was doing this. She didn’t like Dawson that way and it was pointless to encourage him or her parents for that matter. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Please do something decent with that hair by Tuesday. And get some rest. Your eyes look tired.”
Galvanized by years of practice, she didn’t respond. Her mother pulled away and she let out a long breath. “Okay, kiddo, let’s get you in the tub.”
That night she lay in bed, the scent of Tyson on her sheets, as guilt ate at her like acid. It was completely juvenile to chase him from her home and she needed to apologize.
At one in the morning—still awake—she considered walking to his house. She would’ve called, but she didn’t know his number. By one-thirty, she threw on a sweatshirt and slippers. She got as far as the front porch before reconsidering the dark and deserted street. He was probably asleep. Deciding to apologize in the morning, she tossed and turned until well after two.
When the alarm went off at five she hit the snooze until six. Whe
n she finally got out of bed, she had to rush. Mia was a ray of sunshine next to Kat’s run over zombie thing she had going. Sluggishly opening the cupboard, she was reminded that she hadn’t gone to the market. Instead of getting Mia a quick bowl of cereal, Kat took an extra ten minutes to make pancakes.
By the time she got a shower it was six-thirty and, of course, she was out of conditioner. Filling the bottle with water, she repeatedly dumped it over her head until her hair became somewhat soft and manageable. Instead of blow-drying her hair, which was necessary, she threw some product in the tangled mess and prayed it wasn’t a humid day. She couldn’t be late for work.
At seven o’clock she left the house—on time—but left clothes on her floor, dishes piled in the sink, makeup scattered all over the bathroom, and on top of everything else, she forgot Mia’s bag of toys. Speeding home, she grabbed the bag, and sped back to Mrs. Bradshaw’s.
She was in such a hurry after leaving Mrs. Bradshaw’s for the second time, that she forgot to buckle her seatbelt. As she entered into the metro section of New Castle she hit every red light and nearly had a panic attack when she spied the gas gage ticking on E.
Easing over an intersection at a stop sign, lights flashed in her rearview. “Son of a bitch.” Flicking her signal, she pulled to the side of the road.
Wasting precious minutes, the officer moseyed toward her window. Kat shut off the engine, because if she ran out of gas she was going to lose it. Prepared to flirt, she glimpsed her reflection and immediately aborted that plan. It was not good. Her hair was half-dry frizz and half-damp snarls and no amount of makeup was going to cover the bags under her eyes.
Resigned to being late, she patiently handed the officer her license and registration. Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, she waited for him to write her a ticket and tried not to stress about the expense.
He handed her the slip of paper and pointed out that her inspection was up in a few weeks. She smiled tightly. “Thank you.” Officer Dickhead. Shoving the ticket in her purse, she buckled her seatbelt—a hundred dollar oversight she wouldn’t overlook again.