Never Enough
“I don’t know. This is . . . has the potential for trouble. I want to do this right.”
She nodded, humming when he drew the pad of his thumb over the hollow just below her ear. “You’re not helping me be clearheaded, Mister Brown.”
“Just being here with you has made me totally fuzzy headed.” And hard everywhere else. “And”—he set his glass down before scooting closer—“perhaps I prefer you less than clearheaded. Because . . .” He hesitated, his lips so very close to hers. “I think I’d love it if we could take this inside and I could divest you of your clothing and perhaps set out to make you unravel a few times.”
“Is that so? That’s a bold statement.”
“It is.” He nodded before leaning in to run his mouth along her jawline. “You should let me prove it, to protect my honor and reputation.”
“I—I . . .” She groaned. “Can’t have your reputation impugned. It’s just I’m quite demanding when it comes to sex. I’ll put you through your paces. Won’t let you slack.”
He smiled against her flesh, loving the frantic beat of her pulse against his mouth.
“Will you grade me? Because”—he burrowed a hand under the blanket and slid it up her belly to her breast—“I have to tell you how much that appeals to me.” Made him feel like a naughty schoolboy in all the best ways.
“It’s like that, is it?” Her fingers dug into his shirt and the muscles of his shoulder.
“It is.”
She pushed back a little, sitting next to him. “I am not prone to this sort of rash behavior. I’m certainly not prone to anything that could harm Miles, and this could. I think we should talk first. Set some ground rules.” She licked her lips and he forgot what she’d said for a moment or two.
Finally, he found his words again. “Yes, yes, okay.”
“We have to keep this”—she waved her hand back and forth between them—“separate from your and my relationship with Miles. I’m not looking for forever, but I’d like to remain low-key, especially in front of him. He’s a smart, very observant kid. He’s going to notice at some point if we do this more than once.”
“We will definitely do this more than once.”
She made a cute, sort of frustrated sound. “He’s going to figure it out eventually.”
“I agree we need to be careful, especially around Miles. I’m not going to jump on you in front of him.”
She licked her lips again.
He groaned. “You gotta stop that. I can’t think when you do that.”
She smiled. “This may be crass, but I’d just like to establish up front that should this end. When. If. Whatever, let’s keep that private and never let it touch Miles.”
“Not crass at all. Responsible. You’re his mother and you put him first, and yes, of course, I agree that should things end that we never let it affect Miles. I’m asking you to let me co-parent our son. I expect us both to put him first.” Not that he had any plans at all to stop getting all up in Gillian Forrester’s panties any time soon. Still, he appreciated the reminder and, he supposed, the parenting lesson.
“I’m a very private person. My sexuality, what I do and what I like, none of it is for public consumption. I like a space between who I am behind closed doors and who I am out there.” She indicated the rest of the house.
He nodded. Um, yes, please. If he could have extra helpings of that he’d take it with gravy. The whole thing got him hard and hot. So cool and unruffled and then, something altogether sultry once the shades went down.
“I look forward to learning a few things about what you do and what you like. And I have zero problems with privacy. I take it every moment I can get it. I like to keep my private life off the radar. I want to keep all this private. The out there and the in here both.”
Her smile brightened for a moment and he knew she was pleased. “All right then. I’m down with whatever you can cook up.”
At that a full flush moved through him from head to toe.
And just like that, she stood. “All right then. Clock’s ticking, Adrian Brown. Dazzle me and I might just give you an A.”
He grabbed the blanket while she took care of shutting the fire down and bringing the wine and her glass inside.
She flipped lights off, locked doors and led him down a hall to the north of the kitchen where he grabbed his bag.
He paused at her doorway, surprised.
Red.
“I’ve got to say, I’ve imagined your bedroom many times since yesterday alone, and this never entered my mind.”
“Is that so? And why is that?” She moved around him to close and lock the door.
He turned to catch sight of her pulling her hair loose and the cascade of it around her shoulders and back.
“I expected to find roses and cream. Not shiny red walls and bamboo hardwoods. It’s unexpected. Sexy.” He backed her up to the door, caging her with his body.
Gillian laughed, albeit a little nervously. First that he’d expect roses and cream, ha! And most important, the way he’d hemmed her in, his body just barely touching hers, features intent, sent her pulse racing.
Sex was complicated business.
Which didn’t stop her from having it, of course, because she loved it. She’d given in and accepted that one’s baser urges weren’t all bad and liking sex didn’t make her her mother or her sister.
But this. This thing with Adrian Brown was foolhardy. Yet she knew she wasn’t going to stop it. Their little talk had assuaged some of her fears, but it was as if she was totally intoxicated and under the influence of Adrian Brown.
He set her on fire and the burning was the best part.
“I like red,” she managed to stutter out as he leaned into her, pressing his open mouth against her throat, where it met her ear.
And then he breathed her in, his face in her hair, and paused as if he savored her. It made her weak in the knees.
Made her want more.
As if the world had slowed down, he drew her against his body, arm banded around her waist.
And he swayed to the music she’d turned on when they’d entered the room.
Just a slow, full-body touch. She pressed her face into his chest, eyes closed, and leapt into whatever this experience would bring her.
As if he’d sensed this certainty in her, that mouth of his smiled. “There you are.” His words were drawled, like he did sometimes. When he did it, the sound of them would stroke her senses.
The shuffle must have been on, because it went from Kings of Leon to the Stones. Which also seemed to work because suddenly her sweater was up and over her head.
“Well now, look at you, Mister Brown.”
“Goddamn, I love it when your accent does that.” He drew his hands up her sides, skin to skin, as he stared at her breasts. Thank the fates she’d worn the hot bra instead of one of her plain ugly comfortable ones.
“I can’t believe what you’ve got goin’ on here, Gillian. You are fucking spectacular under those clothes you hide yourself with. And damn it, the Rolling Stones.” He paused a moment to listen to “Soul Survivor.” “Hot. You have awesome taste in music.”
“Just another one of my fabulous personality traits.” She returned the favor, removing his shirt and taking him in.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he murmured, popping the catch on her bra to reveal her breasts.
She slid her palm up his chest, pausing at the nipple ring. If she was spectacular, then he was a universe more. He was all rock-and-roll bad boy once the shirt was off.
“Wait.” She pushed back from him to look better.
If she’d expected him to be shy, she’d have been wrong. He let her look her fill, that sexy smile of his planted on his mouth.
She shivered, thinking about his mouth a moment as the music shifted to Vivaldi.
He stood there in her bedroom, hair tousled, sexy-mouthed rock star. Complete with three gold hoops in one ear and a bar running through his right nipple.
Br
oad shoulders led over a tightly muscled chest down to a narrower waist. On his belly lived an intricate Celtic tattoo. “Is that a serpent?”
He made a sound, sort of a growl, as she traced over it. Warm, hard skin pebbled under her touch. She wanted to purr at the power of that moment.
“Yes. I’ve got another you might want to see.”
She laughed, charmed.
“Another tattoo? Or another serpent? Never mind, I’ll see both.”
“If you don’t kill me first.”
“Now why would I do that? Today, anyway. Perhaps you’d have received a completely different answer to that question a week ago.”
“Seems my luck is looking up. Your tits are the most incredible things I’ve ever seen. Just so you know and all. I’m going to be spending a great deal of time getting acquainted with them.” He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and worked it.
“Cheek.” She shook her head, trying to be stern and failing.
He held his hands out as if to surrender, and her attention was again snagged on his body. On those hot and sexy forearms she’d seen a glimpse of earlier. All covered in water and then later flour from punching and rolling out the dough.
Now she got the whole package. “I must admit to you that there’s just so much to look at I feel a little faint.”
“Take your time.” He slid his hand up his belly, flicking his nipple ring. “Because I will be getting all up in you when you’re finished.”
Whoo. Boy.
“You’re very good at the foreplay. Whatever will you be like when you’re buried in me to your balls?”
His smile changed, just a little bit. This one drew her in closer as she ran her palms over powerful hands and wrists, sliding her fingertips over knuckles and the sensitive wristbones on her way to the tattoos.
“You’re a dirty girl.”
She looked up, holding his gaze. “I know what I like.”
He leaned down and took her mouth. Hot as a fever, need crawled through her belly. A delicious, nearly painful pleasure twisting through her.
This kiss was slow and deep. His tongue tasted, teased, danced along hers. His taste dizzied her, sent signals to every part of her body. Her cunt, already slick for hours, was so sensitive and ready that every time she moved, just that small bit of pressure sent little shocks of pleasure skittering through her.
Her nipples slid across his chest, making it worse. Well, no, better.
When he broke the kiss, it left her a little off-kilter for a moment as she gripped his arms, looking into his face. She licked her lips, wanting more of his taste, and he groaned.
“You have no shirt on. This is very distracting.”
“I can say the exact same thing.” She stepped back and indicated him with a tip of her chin. “Look at you! Those jeans fitting you just right so that now all I really want to know is if you’ve got yourself a pair of the other kind. The ones that are threadbare on the back pocket where a wallet was carried.” She reached out and drew her nails up the front of his jeans, over the zipper and his very hard cock. “And here on the front. The kind with a hole in the thigh, frayed at the hem.”
“Now I know what I’ll wear the next time I see you.”
She’d look at him some more after they both came. She made herself that promise. But for the moment, she had to get him in her, on her, against her.
“You should take those off.”
“Oh, are we at that portion of this evening’s events?” He said this as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and slid them slowly over his hips and to the ground, stepping out of them, his underwear and socks too.
“I’d just sort of made a deal with myself to look my fill at you after we both came, but then you go and show me all of you.”
Sun-kissed, just like the rest of him. A dusting of dark hair covered long, muscular legs. Tight calves, powerful thighs. A cock so hard it tapped his belly.
“And here I thought I’d have to use my showerhead after you left tonight. This is much better,” she murmured, staring at him like the visual buffet table he was.
“Never use a showerhead instead of me. Unless I’m there to watch.” He sighed, happily eating her up with his gaze. “We’ll need to get back to that later. Now, I took off my pants, English. I have to propose you do the same. It’s only fair.”
Aware he watched her every move, she slowly drew the long zipper at the back of her pants down before stepping out of them. She left the panties on. Because, well, duh.
“Wow. That’s. Whew. Gillian, each layer you peel back is more amazing than the last. And while”—he circled, looking her over—“these panties are hotter than the sun, I want to see all of you.”
He kissed her shoulder, tripping his fingers down the line of her spine.
When she’d kicked her panties to the side, he gulped and shook his head.
“Curves that lure a man to explore in every way possible. I want to eat you all up.”
As if she’d complain?
He fell to his knees, brushing his lips over her belly.
“I can smell how much you want me.”
That hit her right in the gut, wrenching a small groan from her lips.
“Now I think I need to taste how much you want me.”
He surged to his feet and flopped himself on her bed. She scrambled on, straddling him as she crawled up his body. He put his arms above his head, distracting her with his bulgy pecs and the tats.
“I sure like the look of you. Perched up there, your pussy sliding along my cock like that. Nipples so dark and hard it makes my mouth water.”
“These?” She cupped her breasts, testing their weight, all the while loving the way he stuttered out a breath.
“I’m really going to be getting even with this.” He said it as he began to do it, using a long strand of her hair to play over her nipples.
“Dazzle me, rock star.”
His sleepy green eyes went half lidded, his touch slow and sensual as he replaced the teasing touch of her hair with the roll, tug, pinch of her nipples.
She arched to get closer and he hissed. “You’re so fucking hot and wet. Now I’m the one who doesn’t know where to start.”
She leaned across him and fished around in a vase on a nearby table, pulling out a condom. “This is step one.”
He laughed. “Not yet. On my face. I want to taste you.”
He was so delightfully filthy she wanted to throw her head back and laugh with the joy of it.
“Hands on your headboard. Don’t let go until you come. And remember . . . be quiet. We don’t want anyone to hear me licking your pussy until you want to fly apart.”
She closed her eyes and let it all go, shoved everything but this man in her bed far, far away.
He urged her upward with his hands, wide, strong, callused hands.
She positioned herself over his mouth and barely had enough time to grab her headboard before he brought her to his lips, kissing her cunt like it was a lover.
As her fingers gripped the wood of her headboard so tight she wondered if she was hearing it groan against the pressure, Adrian’s fingers dug into the muscles of her ass and thighs, holding her in place.
Right how he wanted.
He held her tight to his mouth, using lips and tongue and even the gentle slide of the edge of his teeth. He licked at her like he couldn’t get enough.
Struggling to keep quiet, she bit her lip so hard she was sure she’d taste blood. Knowing she couldn’t scream out or even groan very loudly only made everything hotter.
Her thigh muscles trembled as he suckled her clit, tickling the sensitive underside with the tip of his tongue. His pace was relentless, his touch just perfect, riding that line between too gentle and too much.
And when she came, she had to turn her head, pressing her mouth into her arm to muffle the cry.
9
It wasn’t until he’d laid her back on the bed and she looked up at him, eyes glossy, hair a wild dark river around h
er body, that he realized one taste of this woman would not be enough.
He licked his lips and she shivered. “You taste so good.”
“I wonder if I’m fattening.”
Surprised by her dry humor, he laughed, but it died as she reached out to grab his cock and squeezed it just right.
He watched, unable not to, as she slid her thumb over the head and brought it to her mouth, sucking it inside.
“Whoa.”
“You don’t taste too very bad yourself.”
She got to her knees and he resolved to get her that way as much as he could, she looked so fucking delicious.
She moved down the bed, running hands over his skin, adding the scrape of short, neat nails when she got to his thighs.
So bold, she held him at the root, angling his cock and sucking him into her mouth slowly and deliberately.
Hot and wet, she took him deep, swirling her tongue around his cock, giving extra attention to the space just under the head. He groaned, giving in and sliding his hands into the shadowy mass of her hair, cool and so very soft.
Settled on her knees between his thighs, she locked her gaze with his as she sucked his cock and he was entirely sure he’d never seen anything so very hot.
And then she changed her angle, taking him as far back as she could and her hair swept forward, only giving him the briefest of glimpses of her face and mouth.
Sweat beaded at his temples as he was hypnotized by the rounded sway of her ass. Her fucking curves . . . his fingers itched to touch. To dig his fingers in and clutch as he fucked into her body. That lush, beautiful body.
“Wait.” He managed to get his tongue unstuck from the roof of his mouth. “I want to be in you.”
She pulled up and off his cock slowly, with one last swirling lick of her tongue. She sat back, on her knees, smug smile on lips swollen from his cock.
“Tell me something good, Adrian Brown.”
Whew, he had not expected this . . . this hotness just under the surface.
“I might be able to do that if you had condoms.”
Then she crawled past him on her bed, that round ass swaying past as she fished around to retrieve the condom she’d brought out earlier.