Mad About You Page 8

  “So you are attracted to me?” She tried to sound neutral but he could hear the tiny thread of hope in her voice. God, he so did not want to hurt her.

  “I always have been.” He owed her that and more. She’d been open with him, made herself vulnerable. “You’re hot. Searingly, habanero chili, take-your-head-off hot.”

  “You’re such a bullshitter. But I’m flattered that I meet your high standards.” Even as she teased, she pulled up the covers again.

  He edged closer and tucked a strand of wavy hair behind her ear. “I don’t know where you get this idea that I’m a ladies’ man. If I haven’t acted on my attraction, well, you know the reason.”

  “Did you ever think that maybe we’re perfect for each other, that we could be lovers as well as friends?”

  “You mean like ‘friends with benefits’?”

  “I didn’t mean that exactly. I mean…” She floundered, unable or unwilling, to continue.

  That was okay, because he suddenly understood how he felt. It came to him like a flash of blazing light. “No, you’re right, it’s not that crass. It’s more like…you’re awesome and you’re the most important person in my life, and this is an intense moment, and you’re the only one I can share it with, the only one I want to share it with, and connecting deeper through sex seems to be the way to do that.”

  She was staring, her eyes inches away, looking as if she might cry.

  “I don’t mean that to sound self-serving,” he said. “It’s only good if you feel the same and if you want that, too. That connection. That body/soul thing.”

  Still she didn’t say anything, just swallowed.

  “I’m not explaining it properly, am I? You probably think I’m full of shit, like you said.”

  She shook her head. Either she was overcome with emotion or she’d had enough talking. He knew he had. He didn’t want to say anything more, didn’t want to be tempted to make promises he couldn’t keep.

  He leaned in and kissed her, felt as much as heard her sigh as she opened her mouth to him. Heat swept through him as his searching tongue met hers in a sensuous but tender greeting. As warm and familiar as old friends, as exciting and strange as new lovers.

  He reached under the comforter and put his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. This time she didn’t resist. Her foot slid up his calf until her knee brushed his thigh. Blood thrummed through his veins. His heart sounded in his ears like a beating drum. She scooted closer, a slender arm going around his neck. Closer still and her hips met his. His cock jerked with the contact and it was all he could do to resist pulling up her negligee and thrusting straight into her.

  This was Cassy. He could hardly believe she was in his arms, in his bed. Most of his affairs followed a pattern: a few dates—or less—to establish mutual attraction and respect, then into bed. Usually, the sex was good and he liked the woman, but there wasn’t a huge emotional attachment. He had no previous experience that prepared him for making love to his best friend. Nothing, in fact, except decades of repressed fantasies.

  It was hot in the room. Between the fire and their overactive hormones, they were generating an enormous amount of caloric warmth. He pushed back the comforter and the sight of her naked but for the thin negligee nearly undid him. Her nipples were erect and pressing against fabric so sheer he could see their rosy peaks. With a groan, he covered one with his mouth, gathering in as much as he could of her plump round breast and sucking hard. She gasped and writhed beneath his hands, which he’d clamped around her hips. How had he ever claimed to have self-control? She was driving him to distraction. Her flesh was round and soft, yet resilient. He wanted to bury himself in her, to burrow in so deep he never came out.

  The negligee was wet where his mouth had been and now fully transparent and plastered to her breast. She glanced down at herself, then up at him, and the burning in her eyes sparked an inferno in his groin. Rising on her knees, she pushed her other breast into his mouth and ground her hips into his belly. He tongued her nipple, teasing it gently with his teeth. He slid his hand around the back of her thigh and under the negligee, encountering nothing but smooth bare skin.

  Higher and higher, he stroked her silky inner thighs while he suckled her nipple. She moaned low in her throat and he moved his hand around to her butt, his fingers exploring and kneading the rounded flesh, sliding along her crack, and down to where her small patch of curls was moist. With no panties, nothing stopped him from freely exploring her warm, slippery folds. He took his game of thrust and retreat to new lengths, in and out with first two fingers, then three, while his thumb lightly circled her clitoris. Then he pushed her nightie up to her waist and lowered his head to put his tongue where his thumb had just been. He sucked gently and she sagged against him.

  His cock was titanium-hard and pulsing with need. Cassy pulled her nightie over her head and tossed it aside. He let go of her for a moment to peel off his boxers. The room was silent but for the crackle of the flames in the grate and the soft rasp of their heavy breathing. With his eyes, he drank in her naked body, flushed and glowing in the firelight. Her hair was mussed, her mouth soft and her eyes languid.

  When he could bear it no longer, he gently pushed her down on the bed and nudged his way between her legs until his cock was pushing on her soft belly. “You’re beautiful and you’re hot and I can’t believe we’ve never done this before.”

  …

  Cassy gazed up at him, at his broad chest tapering to narrow hips blocking out the firelight. His cock lay heavy and hot on her abdomen, jerking occasionally as if it had a life and a mind of its own. She ran her hands up his sleek flanks, reveling in his firm muscles and hot skin. She couldn’t believe she’d finally gotten Scott exactly where she wanted him, naked and rearing above her, poised to enter and take her. Her sex throbbed and the heat that had been building in her belly had spread to her limbs, leaving her weak with wanting and aching to feel him inside her.

  “It was worth the wait,” Cassy said. “I was wrong. Nothing bad could come of us making love. We were meant to be together like this.” Finally, he seemed to realize it and believe it, too.

  Kneading his taut butt with her hands, she pressed a kiss on each pec, tonguing his flat nipples briefly before kissing and licking her way down his washboard abs. She took her time, wanting to put him through pleasurable, delicious torment just as he’d done to her. By the sound of his low moans, she guessed she was succeeding. He’d taken her to the brink of orgasm, then retreated. She was almost painfully aroused and was determined to give as good as she’d got. Whatever happened tomorrow, she didn’t want either of them to ever forget that they’d had this night together.

  She scooted down a little farther on the bed and grasped his erection in both hands. So hard and yet so velvety smooth. She ran her fingers up the thick member laced with raised veins, squeezing and stroking, then she put the head fully into her mouth and closed her lips around him. She savored the taste of the salty drop before sucking, gently at first, then as he began to move against her mouth, harder. With one hand she stroked his length while with the other she cupped his balls and squeezed lightly, cradling their weight in her palm.

  After only a short while, he stopped her with a low groan. “Hang on.” He got out of bed and rummaged in his suitcase for a condom. Quickly, he sheathed himself. “I want to be inside you.”

  “I want that, too.” She knew she shouldn’t harbor any romantic notions where Scott was concerned but she couldn’t help it. When they came with each other the first time she wanted him inside her, gazing deep into her eyes. Yes, she hoped the sex would be hot, hotter than she’d experienced with other men, but it was the emotional connection with Scott that she really longed for.

  His mouth met hers in a searing kiss and this time there was nothing gentle or exploratory. It was demanding and insistent, leaving no moist recess untasted. His teeth pressed against her lips, bruising them as his hands molded her breasts, squeezing and rolling her nipples between hi
s fingers. She shifted her hips and angled them toward his thrusting cock. The head pressed against her entrance, paused for the briefest of moments, just long enough for her hips to jerk urgently. Then with agonizing slowness, he pushed inside her. Inch by inch. He was so big and so hard, she thought she would die from wanting him. She tightened her legs around his hips, wanting to hold him there and never let him go. Her core was pulsing with sensation, already spiraling with tension. Then he began to move, to thrust and pull back, and she was swept up in the rocking rhythm and the desperate need to feel him in her and against her and all around her.

  “So tight. So hot. So wet.” He grabbed her hips and pulled her in closer, the words coming out in grunts as he pushed hard.

  She met him with hard thrusts of her own, slamming into him, trying to merge flesh with flesh. The musky smell of their juices and the slap of skin on skin filled her senses. His face was close, their eyes locked. She kissed him, hot and hard and fierce, then her eyes began to glaze as she climbed higher and higher. Every muscle in her body was rigid, every cell in her being striving for that one great explosion.

  “Almost there,” she said, panting. Abruptly he changed rhythm, grinding in a circular motion and she almost screamed with frustration and need. “Don’t do that to me, Scott.”

  “You love what I’m doing to you.”

  He was right. The new motion had stepped up the tension another notch. He was moving for both of them now. She was gripped in sensation and lust and desire and need and had no control over where they were going. Usually, she was in charge in bed. Not with Scott. He was taking her somewhere only he knew and she was clinging to his shoulders and hips and hoping she would still be in one piece when it was all over.

  And then he gave one last almighty thrust and went rigid. At the same instant, her whole body went supernova and the shattered remains of her went spinning off in all directions.

  She didn’t know how long she drifted, awash in the warmth and afterglow. Gradually, she became aware of Scott still inside her and her arms and legs wrapped around him, of his warm weight pressing her into the mattress. She was almost ready to open her eyes when Scott moved his hips and she was flooded with another orgasm. Wave after wave rolled over her. Weakly, she moved her hips and set off another. And another.

  “Are you okay?” he murmured next to her ear.

  She smiled against his jaw as a tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek. She’d finally experienced her fireworks, her moon launch, her trip to the outer reaches of the known universe. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  “Good.” He kissed her, then pulled her close. “Go to sleep now. We’ll get up early and finish working on the pitch.”

  She snuggled into his shoulder. “Sure. That’s what we’ll do.”

  Chapter Seven

  Cassy woke in a warm haze of well-being and stretched luxuriously in the crumpled sheets. Scott’s side of the bed was empty. She heard the shower running and glanced at her watch on the bedside table. It was ten minutes to eight. Last night they’d arranged to meet Lorraine and Tod in the dining room at 8:00 a.m. Oh, well, so what? She couldn’t work up even a modicum of anxiety. They’d had the kind of night she’d only ever dreamed about.

  Making love with him had exceeded her wildest fantasies. She’d lost count of how many times and how many different ways they’d done the deed. Suffice it to say, her body ached pleasurably in her most intimate places. They’d fallen asleep last night with him spooning her. Then a few hours ago, as dawn light peeked through the curtains, she’d stirred to find Scott’s hand cupping her breast, his warm breath ruffling the hairs on her neck and his erection nudging her from behind.

  Half-asleep, she’d reached back and guided him between her legs. When the head of his cock was just inside, she squeezed her legs tightly shut to put pressure on her clit and to tease him and make him push his way in.

  “I see you know how much I enjoy a challenge,” he murmured, a lazy smile in his voice.

  She shivered a little at the sheer pleasure of hearing his voice so close to her ear. “You’re awake.”

  “Oh, I’m awake.” He flipped her on her stomach and hiked her hips up in an attempt to spread her and allow him greater access.

  Stifling a giggle, she kept her legs shut and pushed her butt up and back. His cock felt so good, hard and thick and hot. She wanted to slow things down and draw out the pleasure. After only a few minutes her plan backfired. The extra friction made her even wetter as pleasurable sensations flooded her core. Scott reached beneath and found her breasts, caressing them with both hands, squeezing her nipples as he kept up a steady rocking motion that drove him a fraction of an inch farther in with each thrust.

  She struggled against the urge to open, to let him in, and forced her legs to stay closed even as the pleasure built. Then he was halfway in, stretching her and filling her. The need to feel his whole cock became urgent. Her will to resist vanished as her muscles went lax. He slid inside with a grunt. Scott celebrated breaching her defenses with a series of rapid, hard thrusts. As she came, a cry tore out of her and he went rigid with his own release. After that they had drifted back to sleep, sated and sweaty. Remembering their passion now, she felt tendrils of desire curl through her once more.

  The shower stopped and Scott came out of the bathroom, naked but for the towel around his hips. His shaggy dark hair was slicked back and droplets of water dotted his broad shoulders. Cassy sat up in bed to watch him get dressed. Shame he was dragging his clothes on in such a hurry. Those sculpted abs deserved a good long look.

  He pulled on his pants, hopping on one foot as he pushed his foot through the other flapping pant leg. “Aren’t you getting up? We’re late.”

  “Come back to bed.” She reached a hand out and wiggled her fingers. “You know you want to.”

  “And you know I can’t do anything reckless.” He stood in front of the mirror and combed his wet hair. “Everything’s riding on what happens today with Lorraine.”

  With Lorraine, not with her. Cassy wasn’t disappointed, she wasn’t. He had priorities. Hadn’t she herself worked like a dog toward this day for the past three weeks? Still, he hadn’t even said good morning, let alone kissed her yet. It was as though he’d flipped a switch from lover to workmates and he’d forgotten everything they’d shared last night and earlier this morning. She knew what he was like. She’d counseled him through countless girlfriends-gone-wrong. When he had work on his mind, nothing and no one else came on his radar. Even so, it hurt.

  “Speaking of riding, why are you getting dressed in your good pants and shirt?” she asked. “You’ll just have to change again.”

  “Have you looked outside? It’s raining.”

  “Since when did a little rain stop you from getting on a mountain bike?” She twisted in bed and leaned over to pull back the curtains. The sky was a heavy dark gray, the mountain on the other side of the river almost invisible behind thick sheets of rain. “Oh.”

  “Even if I was crazy enough to go out in that I wouldn’t risk taking a novice on the trails, let alone a potential investor.” Scott stuffed his shirt into his pants and reached for his socks and shoes. “Lorraine wouldn’t thank me if she broke her neck on a muddy trail.”

  He slipped his wallet into his back pocket. “How do I look? Do you think I need a tie?”

  “Not for breakfast.” Cassy rolled out of bed, draping the sheet around her body, and padded over to him. She straightened his collar. His eyes were shadowed from lack of sleep and there were tired creases around the corners of his mouth. She stood on her toes to kiss him lightly. “You look wonderful.”

  “Thanks.”

  He didn’t kiss her back. Didn’t even smile.

  She rocked back on her heels. He was nervous, that’s all. As he said, his future was riding on today. She tried again, sliding a hand up his shirtfront. “Last night was amazing.”

  He wouldn’t meet her gaze. Gently he removed her hand, gave it a b
rief squeeze, and released. “I should go. We can talk later.”

  Talk? That wasn’t quite what she had in mind.

  “Okay.” She tried to catch his eye but he was already moving away from her. Suddenly she felt awkward, standing there nearly naked. “I’d better get dressed.”

  “See you downstairs.”

  The door closed behind him. She stood there, clutching her sheet for a good thirty seconds while she struggled with feelings of rejection. Did he regret making love to her? Was that it? Wham, bang, thank you ma’am? Had she just had a one-night stand with the man she’d waited all her life to be with? Surely it wasn’t possible that their fling was over in one night.

  Then it struck her. She didn’t want a fling with Scott. She wanted forever. And he…well, she didn’t have a clue what he wanted despite all that mumbo jumbo about body/soul connection. Whatever he’d meant, it didn’t look as if it included a relationship with her.

  In the shower a few tears slipped out as she scrubbed his scent off her skin. What had last night been about for him? Satisfying his curiosity? Finding release from nervous anxiety? She knew he cared about her. They were friends. Or had that changed? The Scott she knew and loved would never have left her hanging like that. Sex was a game changer. And when it came to her and Scott, she didn’t know the rules. Until this morning she would never have stood in front of him naked, fixed his collar like some old-fashioned girlfriend, and made a coy reference to their sexual antics.

  But she hadn’t meant to be coy. She’d been sincere. Last night had been amazing. At least to her. Was it just the norm for him? Or worse, had the sex been mediocre? She winced. Oh, God! What if he regretted it because she was no good in bed? What if, even as he cruised through the breakfast buffet, he was trying to think of some nice way to tell her there wasn’t going to be a repeat?

  Would he have done it four times with her if it hadn’t been good for him? She’d never made love four times in one twelve-hour period in her life, not even close. Judging by the past exploits he’d confided in her over the years, he was highly sexed, but still…four times?