Chapter Seven

Allison flipped through a magazine and tried to ignore how hot Marco looked sitting next to her. He was strumming his guitar and humming to himself. They were somewhere over the middle of the country, based on the terrain she could see out the window, and they were racing away from the sunset. It was like they’d been flying in eternal dusk, which was a discomfiting thought.

She hadn’t been kidding, though, when she’d told Marco his minor scuffle with the rest of the group had made all of them seem more human.

Here they had success and money and they were still getting on each others nerves. It made her feel like she wasn’t doing so bad after all. So maybe she’d been drifting through life. So maybe she hadn’t been the best choices.

She hadn’t made bad choices either. She wasn’t the one getting DUIs and repeatedly exposing herself to STDs.

Besides, the outburst between Marco and Harry had served to distract him from what he had been doing—which was flirting with her in a way she wasn’t sure she could handle even for two days. It was oh so tempting to think she could just pull down her walls for a short amount of time¸ fall for him, then build the walls back up. But it never worked like that. Once they were down, it was a bitch to rebuild them. The bricks never went back into position the same way, and there were gaps. Gaps equaled ways she could get hurt, and she honestly didn’t think she was strong enough at the moment to handle having her heart crushed.

But hey, guess what, she was already on a plane with him. No turning back now.

She did want to sleep with him. Desperately. She just didn’t want to sleep with him and then be a dipshit about it.

Aidan was snoring on the couch, still holding his glass. Sharon was working on her laptop, as was Harry. Marco glanced over at her and smiled.

“How’s your magazine?”

“Scintillating.”

“There’s that whole big word thing again. Remember, I’m just a swamp kid.”

“Says the man who writes lyrics that are basically poetry.”

He looked genuinely flattered. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll write a song titled

‘The Brunette.’”

She laughed. “Is about a girl who loses everything? That’s me.

Winning.” She wanted to give herself a facepalm. Maybe she was still in shock, but it wasn’t as horrible as she would have thought. She had managed to return the majority of her gleeful purchases of the day before, and it had only hurt a little. Hell, maybe she was having some kind of growth moment, or maybe later she was going to have a dramatic late reaction where she sobbed on Marco poolside the next day. She hoped not, though.

“Maybe it’s about a girl who already has everything without realizing she does.” He studied her, and his gaze was so intense, she instinctively looked away, down at his fingers.

His fingers were rough, callused from playing the guitar every day for so many years, yet they were confident, skilled, and seemed to move of their own volition, even while he was talking.

“What does she have?” Allison asked. “Who is she?” She knew he meant her, but she wanted him to spell it out.

“The girl with the beauty and the brains and the sense of humor. What else does she need?”

His voice was soft, and it melted her insides. Was that how he viewed her, really? It seemed to her like she was just a con artist, spinning it for everyone that she had it together, when she didn’t. It was embarrassingly pleasant to hear him describe her. It was a knee-jerk reaction to want to hide her discomfort with sarcasm, but she restrained herself. Marco had earned the right to honesty from her. He’d been open, he’d been patient. He’d been a nice guy. She couldn’t insult him by pretending not to know he was complimenting her.

“I can think of a thing or two,” she said, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

She couldn’t, though, not really. What did she need truthfully? An apartment, a job, blah, blah, blah. She knew enough to know that it would all shake out one way or another, because she wasn’t looking to move into a highly competitive field. She could find another retail position, an even better one, and she wasn’t going to be homeless. All of that seemed far away anyway. Here, on this plane, the only thing she could think about wanting was Marco to use his mouth on her, everywhere he could. “How about we start with that kiss you threatened me with.”

He smiled. “You don’t care that we’re not alone?”

She had been sitting next to him for two and a half hours, watching his lips move as he sang softly and hummed, imagining the feel of them on her again. She wouldn’t care if the Mormon Tabernacle Choir were on the plane next to her, though they might object. A couple of music industry people were not going to bother her. “No one is looking. And it’s just a kiss, not making a baby.”

“I knew my mom was lying to me about that. Kissing never got anyone pregnant. I never went blind from jacking off, either.”

Allison laughed. “She did not tell you that.”

“The hell she didn’t. Only I was really confused because I saw her disgusting boyfriend Carl spanking it all the time and he never went blind.

When I called her out on that, she told me to stop trying to be smarter than her. So I shrugged it all off and just started messing around with girls instead.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “That’s a charming stroll down memory lane.

What does any of that have to do with you kissing me?”

“Nothing. Which makes me an idiot.” His fingers stilled. “I think my game is off. Out of practice.”

“Hey,” she whispered, eliminating the space between them so she was only inches from him. “Don’t get game with me, okay? Just be yourself.

Marco de Luca. He’s the one I want to spend time with.”

“Jesus,” he murmured. “You’re killing me, you know that?” His hand slipped up onto the nape of her neck. He massaged her skin gently.

Goosebumps rose on her skin. “Don’t kill me. Kiss me.” She could feel the warmth of his breath. She could smell him, that subtle, earthy cologne he wore. She could see the stubble of his beard, and the chip he had on his incisor tooth. She could see that his eyelashes were ridiculously and rudely long for a man, and she could see that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Something was happening between them, and it was very, very appealing, and yet such a bad idea. But when his mouth lowered and brushed over hers, she closed her eyes and sighed into the kiss. No regrets.

No fears. She had spent the last decade settling for less than she wanted because she was afraid. Her. The big, loud, trash-talking bullshit cynic with an opinion on everything was the one who was too afraid to take a risk.

Jamie had moved from Kentucky to New York without knowing a single

soul. Mandy had left England and opened her own store. Caroline had gone corporate, going head to head with misogynistic men on a regular basis, while wearing heels and an impeccable chignon. Allison had settled into the easy route, the least common denominator.

She was afraid of being hurt by Marco. She knew she would be. It was inevitable. He wasn’t a keeper. He wasn’t even a potential boyfriend or friends with benefits beyond this trip. He was unattainable, nothing more than a moment in time. When she was ancient and looking back at her life, she would remember him fondly as the musician who took her to the top of the Empire State Building and to California on a whim, and she would smile. That was it.

So why was it when he kissed her, she felt soft and feminine and happy?

Why did she feel so open and giddy and tender? It made no sense and it was stupid. But that didn’t stop her from pulling back and cupping his cheeks.

“You’re very cute,” she told him.

“No, I’m not. Kittens are cute. I look like I’ve had too many late nights and traveled too much,” he murmured. “I look older than my age.”

“You’re still cute.” She kissed his lips softly. “Even with the beard scruff. And even with the dirty hair that could use a blowout. It’s your eyes.

They sparkle with the mischief of a little boy.”

“Have you been drinking?” He cocked his head. “Because you sound like Allison on painkillers and wine. Are you going to start spinning in circles next and telling me the plane is raining unicorns?”

She laughed. “What, you’re allowed to compliment me, but I can’t compliment you?” Though, she had to admit, she wasn’t usually in the habit of telling men their eyes sparkled. He had a point. “You look fucking cute, okay? Just shut up and let me be nice.”

He sighed in mock relief. “That’s better. You’re back. I thought you’d been abducted by aliens.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You couldn’t be so lucky.”

Marco winked at her. “I make my own luck, remember?” His hand slid down her side and rested on her waist. “I wish we were alone.”

“What’s the plan?” It hadn’t seemed all the important, because hello, private jet and Southern California, but now she figured she could inquire what exactly she was supposed to be doing for the next two days.

“Tomorrow I have to do some recording at my house, so you can lay out by the pool. But tonight I’m all yours.”

Yum. She wondered what base they were supposed to be on, according to his baseball chart of sexual contact. “Do I sleep in the guest room? I hope you have little shampoos for me. I expect five-star treatment.”

“I don’t have a guest room.”

“Seriously? Don’t you have guests?” She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“No, not really. My house is only a two-bedroom, and I use the other room as my reptile room.”

Wait. “What? Stop messing with me.”

“No, I’m serious. I have bearded dragons and geckos and a couple of iguanas. They’re cool.”

“They’re lizards.” She swallowed hard. “So, uh, I don’t have to sleep in the reptile room, do I?” She would have a heart attack and die. Dead. All over for Allison.

“My plan was to share my bed with you.” Marco ran his thumb over her bottom lip, making her forget all about scaly beasts. “I don’t mind. I won’t even steal all the covers.”

She shivered from his touch, trying to visualize what he looked like naked.

“Is that okay? I promise there are no strings attached. No expectations.”

Now he was the one on drugs. “Marco. I am not flying all the way across the country to have a pillow fight with you. I think we should do whatever feels right, wink, wink, nudge, nudge.”

He gave a soft laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Marco pulled her head down so that his lips brushed her ear. “Then I’m going to fuck you. I don’t want to rush it, or hit it and quit it. I want to draw it out and drink you in and make every inch of you mine.”

Desire had a tight knot of heat building between her thighs, and she wanted to crawl onto his lap and grind herself against him. She’d never been good at the tease, and his words were driving her crazy. But no point in letting him know that. Allison turned slightly, so she could eye him casually. His hand still gripped her head and she was leaning on his arm, her breasts pushing against him, their respective leather jackets rustling against each other. “So this is a full-service vacation package, then.

Excellent.”

His eyes narrowed. “You won’t be disappointed in the value, I promise.”

Then he shook his head a little. “It’s been so long for me that I’m going to tear you the fuck up, you know that, right? I’m going to be rough and nasty and greedy, but I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, and I’ll try not to skip bases.”

Now she was downright wet, her throat tight in anticipation. “I never liked baseball anyway. And as long as you fuck me against a wall, I’m going to leave very, very happy.”

“I’ve never felt luckier than I do right now,” he said.

She was starting to feel the same way.

“Would you rather win the lottery or spend the night with a rock star?”

he asked.

“Win the lottery. But the rock star is one hell of a consolation prize.”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “Then I have a goal. Make you forget all about the damn money.”

“Go for it, my friend.” She straightened up a little, shifting uncomfortably. She could see he had a huge erection, and she knew her panties were damp. “Are we there yet?”

Marco opened the door to his house and ushered Allison in. He tried to see it through her eyes. He’d bought it five years ago and initially had hired a designer to remodel the kitchen and the bathrooms, and decorate the living room. But he’d never gotten around to doing his bedroom or the reptile room. On the lower level he had a recording studio that had state-of-the-art equipment, but no particular style. He didn’t bring women to his house. Other than the wives and girlfriends of his friends, and Sharon, his assistant, he hadn’t had a woman spend the night at home with him since his last relationship had ended three years earlier, in a big dramatic exit from her. He’d gotten drunk at a show and passed out on her in the middle of sex. She’d stormed out in nothing but a robe, announcing she was sick of being fifteenth on his list of priorities, behind music, alcohol, and each one of his lizards. She’d had a point, so he hadn’t been able to fault her, nor had he particularly missed her after she’d left. He hadn’t been in love with her, any more than she had been in love with him.

She had wanted to be Marco Lucky’s girlfriend.

He had wanted the concept of having someone to come home to, but hadn’t wanted to give up any of his independence or freedom, or put any

work into making her happy. It hadn’t been the right time, and it was better that it had ended when it did, and that they hadn’t been stupid enough to get married or have kids together.

That was the last female presence to be invited into his personal space, and he felt that by bringing Allison there, his impulse was crossing a certain line. But he was comfortable with that. He was ready to break his celibate streak and he was enjoying being around her. She made him laugh, she made him think, she made him humble. He didn’t know what that meant beyond this trip, but he was going to roll with it.

“Chez Marco, huh?” she asked, her eyes sweeping around carefully, assessing his house. “Very nice, and I like that it’s not gargantuan like some of the houses here. Why does one person need eight thousand feet of living space? But maybe that’s the New Yorker in me.”

“I wanted to live at the beach, but it’s impractical with traffic when I usually need to be downtown, so I figured this was a good compromise to be here in the hills. I like this modern California ranch style. I also agree with you that eight thousand square feet is unnecessary.” Marco dropped his bag on the floor, and set his guitar down next to it. He took Allison’s suitcase and rolled it next to his, then he went over to the drapes and hit the button that made them draw open automatically. He’d lost the remote control to do that three years earlier and had never bothered to replace it.

“The view here is amazing.”

“Wow.” She moved in beside him as he opened the retractable doors.

“That’s beautiful. Look at all those lights.”

He loved this feature of the house. The whole back of the house folded into glass panels and slid inside the walls, like pocket doors. Beyond his pool was the cascading Hollywood Hills, and a sprawling view of the city.

“After you.”

It led out to the pool and back patio. He didn’t have any yard, which was perfect for him.

“Shut your face,” she said, eyeing him over her shoulder. “This is the bomb.com.” She peeled her leather jacket off. “And warm.”

“Glad to see you haven’t left your nineties slang back in the Big Apple.”

He took his own jacket off, enjoying the way the night air kissed his face.

He would never get tired of the California weather. So much better than the cold or the sticky summers in Florida. “I’m also glad you like it. I’m on the

road a lot, but I like to come back here. This is my own private Idaho, you know?”

“I do.” She spun around on her flat shoes, and he enjoyed the way her skinny jeans hugged her body. “It’s like a secret garden.”

He’d like a view of her secret garden, though he would never say something so fucking cheesy out loud. He’d settle for watching her get down on her knees, bend over, and dribble her fingers across the surface of the water while he kept his damn mouth shut. He had the pool underlit, and she was bathed in a turquoise glow as she tested the temperature of the pool water. Allison looked back at him, her eyes wide.

“It’s warm,” she said. “Can we go swimming? I haven’t been swimming since I went on vacation with my parents four years ago and my mom got drunk on Shiraz and confessed she was pregnant with my brother when she and my dad got married. It was not the relaxing weekend off I’d been hoping for.”

He laughed. “Of course we can go swimming.” To prove his point, he sat down on the stamped concrete, pulled his boots off, and tossed them to the side. He peeled his socks off and drew his T-shirt over his head.

“What are you doing?” she asked, though her grin was so huge it was clear she knew exactly what he was doing. “And nice abs, by the way. I’m getting a lady boner.”

Marco almost choked. God, the shit that came out of her mouth. “Then I must be doing something right.” He stood up and undid his jeans. Without hesitation he shucked them down. The bracelets he always wore, leather and chain, clinked noisily as he kicked the denim aside.

“I’m scandalized,” she said.

“You’re also a total liar.” He walked over to the outdoor kitchen in his boxer briefs, enjoying the freedom of near nudity. He’d felt like he’d had to wear too many layers in New York. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“What do you have?”

“I don’t have any alcohol, I’m sorry. I can pick something up for you tomorrow if you want.” He opened the fridge and pulled out an iced tea for himself.

“I don’t need booze. Can I just have a soft drink?” Allison sat back on her ass and let her hair cascade down her back. She slipped her shoes off and set them neatly to the side.

“Diet or regular?”

“Regular.” She dipped a toe delicately into the water.

Marco opened the panel that controlled the music system he’d had installed. He turned on some classic rock.

She looked back at him. “Surround sound? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. So California.”

He brought a can of soda to her and dropped down onto the ground. “I have lounge chairs, you know.”

“You probably have a bathing suit too, but that doesn’t seem to be an issue.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Marco set his drink down beside her and let his feet and ankles dangle in the water. “Are you going to go change? I can show you where the bathroom is.”

“Now why would I bother to do that?” Allison gave him a mischievous look and stood up. “If you an kick it old school, I can too.”

Her thighs were inches from his face. She slowly and tantalizingly unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, drawing them down and exposing red lace panties. Of course they were red. They had to be red. His cock was already going hard, and when she wiggled a little to get her denim down, it brought the apex of her thighs and that scrap of lace within licking distance of his tongue. He wanted to just reach out and drive his tongue into her, but that wasn’t going to be how he played this.

“Do you need any help?” he asked her, holding his hand out to her.

“Thanks,” she said, a little breathless. She slipped her fingers into his grip and used him for leverage while she dragged first one pant leg, then the other off.

With his free hand, he took a sip of his iced tea, watching her, enjoying the way her flesh rose in goosebumps as the night air hit her exposed skin.

Straightening back up, she kept his hand, and her legs were as long and lean and glorious as he had imagined. Then she peeled her sweater off over her head, her hair catching for a brief moment before it spilled all over her shoulders. Her small breasts were covered with more red lace, and his throat tightened in appreciation of her lean and sensual body, her waist dipping in enticingly. To his amusement, she folded her clothes up carefully before sitting back down beside him and easing her feet into the water. He wouldn’t have expected her to be concerned about wrinkles. Allison was an intriguing combinations of recklessness and conservatism.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked her.

“Yes.” She sighed and popped the tab on her soda. “I’m in heaven.”

Marco reached over and put his hand on her chin, turning her to him.

“So am I.” He studied her amber eyes, trying to plumb the depths of them, but all he saw was her desire for him, so he kissed her, teasing at her bottom lip with his tongue until she parted her mouth for him. He dipped inside, wanting to taste her fully, loving that moment when she relaxed into his touch.

Allison sighed. He loved that sound. For a woman who talked a lot, and a fair amount of her words were in the form of sarcasm, he liked when she showed her softer side. It made him feel like he’d won a victory. Her soft moans of pleasure acted to spur him on, making him tighten his grip on her, opening his palm and sliding his fingers up into her dark hair. He nipped at her bottom lip and was rewarded with a groan.

With his free hand, Marco found a breast and cupped it, brushing his thumb over her nipple. It was already hard, and he teased across the taut bud, testing her reactions to his touch, before moving to the other breast.

“You like that?” he asked.

“That’s a stupid question,” she murmured, pulling back to look at him with languorous eyes.

“Is it?”

“Yes.” She ran her fingers across his chest. “And yes, you turn me on.

And yes, I’m hot for you.”

“It’s like you’re psychic,” he teased her. “So you’re hot? Really, really hot?”

She nodded, eyeing him cautiously. She seemed to know he was planning something.

So before she could question what he was about to do, he tipped himself into the pool and took her with him. They went under the warm water with a loud splash, a tangle of limbs, and a violent shriek as Allison cursed him to hell and back, but the end of her sentence was cut off by the sudden submersion. He actually had the pleasure of seeing her pissed-off and amused expression underwater, and he wiggled his eyebrows at her before bursting back through the surface. He flung his hair back off his face and gave a sound of satisfaction. The sides of his hair were short but the top was getting a little long, so he smoothed it back.

“Fuck yeah. Now that feels good,” he said, as she came up in front of him, pawing at her long hair and sputtering.

“You’re a jerk.” Treading water, she wiped her face.

“Don’t play injured party with me,” he told her. “You knew what I was going to do. You took your clothes off. That was a clear indicator you wanted to be thrown in the pool.”

Her look was so incredulous he had to laugh. “No?”

“No. I was going to ease myself in.” She splashed water at him. “I was going to savor, damn you.”

“You can savor tomorrow. Tonight you just needed to get wet.” He didn’t mean it as a sexual innuendo, but her eyebrows rose and that turned him on all over again. The pool was only four feet deep, and he walked to her through the water, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her to him. Their chests collided softly. “You didn’t come all the way across the country for a pillow fight, remember?”

“No. But I also didn’t come across country to be manhandled.” Her words had no bite to them, nor did she pull away.

“No manhandling? But here I could have sworn you said you wanted me to fuck you against the wall. I can be tender and gentle, though, if you’d like.” As he spoke, he stroked his fingers down her sides under the water until he reached her ass. He cupped her bottom and eased her hips forward until the apex of her thighs was bumping against his cock. He wished he had taken his briefs off before he’d gotten in the water, but then again, there was something wonderful about the torture.

Marco nuzzled her neck as he ran his hands up and down her body, exploring, his touch light and teasing. “Doesn’t the water feel good?”

“A lot of what is happening right now feels good,” she murmured, dropping her hand back so he could access her neck better.

“You’re very beautiful,” he said. “I like the way your skin feels.”

“You don’t have to play the seducer with me, you know,” she said. “I don’t want you to bullshit me. Just be you.”

That made him pause. He pulled back and looked at her. “I am. I already told you I haven’t had sex in a year. If I wanted to seduce someone, I’d go for an easier target. I like you. You are beautiful. And your skin does feel good. You have to trust me or this isn’t going to work.”

He didn’t know what he meant by this, but he was starting to suspect he meant more than two days and three nights of stolen time together at his place. He ran a finger across her bottom lip. “I’ve shown you my ass, so to speak, so you have to be comfortable doing the same.”

He didn’t want her to respond with something flippant or sarcastic, and she didn’t. She nodded. “You’re right. But I feel… exposed. That freaks me out.”

Honestly, that was the sexiest thing he’d heard in a long time, because he knew that wasn’t an easy thing to admit. He didn’t get a lot of people being truthful with him, and he felt grateful she had. It made him feel a wave of territorial protectiveness. “I feel exposed too, you know. I’ve told you things that are personal, and I’ve let you into my private life. No other woman has been in this house in three years. Just so you know.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” she asked, cocking her head, her fingers brushing across his chest in a way that both aroused and gave him goosebumps.

“Two days ago we’d never even crossed paths.”

Marco kissed her, feeling the unmistakeable tightening in his throat that indicated he was way the fuck in over his head. This was new territory. She was right. It was weird. Worse than weird. It was crazy. He tangled his tongue with hers and kissed her deeply, passionately, letting go of his carefully controlled desire. “Is this weird?”

“No.” Allison’s arms wrapped around his neck and she hooked one foot behind his ankle so that her inner thighs ground more readily against his dick. “And I trust you.”

Okay, now his heart swelled right along with his dick. “That means a lot to me.” He’d been avoiding exploring any of the front of her body, but now he dipped his head down and slid his tongue alongside the swell of her breast. He rubbed his lips over the bead of her nipple through her bra. He was glad she wasn’t wearing some kind of seventeen-inch-thick bra like a lot of women did. Her cleavage sat where it should naturally, and he could actually feel the shape of her breast and her nipple.

Allison sighed, her fingers gripping his shoulders tighter. “You have ridiculous control,” she said. “I would have rushed us to naked, but this is better. Torturous, but better.”

“It is, isn’t it?” It was all part of getting to know her. Now he knew that she preferred him to suck her nipple versus bite it, and that she had a beauty mark above her right breast that he was fascinated with. He knew that she ducked her eyes when she was embarrassed and that she worked her tongue over her bottom lip when she was aroused. Like she was now.

He peeled the fabric of her bra down and placed his warm mouth over her cool nipple, drawing it into his mouth. Closing his eyes, he thoroughly

tasted, his cock throbbing with need. She may think he was in control, but it was hard as hell to take it slow. So worth it, though. He moved back and forth between both breasts, and as his need climbed, he squeezed her breasts together and took both nipples into his mouth at the same time.

Allison gave a deep moan.

Her hips were rocking against him, and he let go of her breasts so he could grind her ass and push her heat onto his cock. He lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, and walked her to the edge of the pool.

“Where are we going?” she asked, pulling his earlobe into her mouth with a gentle suck.

“Right here.” He set her down on the ledge and settled in between her legs. Pausing for a second, he drank in the sight of her. Her bra was yanked down partially over her breasts, and her chest was rising and falling rapidly with desire. Water trickled down over her belly and her hair clung to her shoulders. She was beautiful and exotic and he was actually a little in awe that she was willing to be here, doing this, with him. He knew what she had initially thought of him, and how she disdained groupies. He felt a deep appreciation and desire that she was allowing him to touch her body. He wanted to see and feel all of it.

Using his thumbs to hook under the waist of her panties, he started to peel them down. She helped him by lifting her backside up off the concrete.

As he started to bury his mouth between her legs, sliding his tongue across her slit, it occurred to him that sitting naked on the pool surround wasn’t going to be the most comfortable thing in the world. Pulling back, he said,

“Let me go get you a towel to sit on.”

“I’m fine.” She tugged his head back and down. “Keep doing that, please.”

That made him smile, and he kissed the cool flesh of her thigh, flicking his tongue over a few water droplets. “You sure?”

“Yes. I appreciate your determination to be a gentleman, but it’s time for you to give me the nasty you promised.”

He wasn’t quite ready for the nasty. He was enjoying drawing out the anticipation. So he nudged her legs further apart, tugging her forward a little so that she was spread right in front of him. It was an excellent view, and her body was bathed in the aqua glow of the pool lights, but he could see her sex clearly, see that her clit was swollen. Using his fingers, he

massaged her folds, opening her for him, his dick hardening both at the intimacy of the view and the sharp intake of breath she gave.

Then he tasted her. Slowly, languidly. Eyes half closed, the scent of her arousal filled his nostrils. He moved up and down, exploring, probing inside her just a little bit, wanting to experience her reaction, wanting to know how wet she was for him. It was satisfying to learn she was, in fact, very, very wet. He gripped her thighs more firmly, sliding his hands under her ass so he could haul her closer to his mouth. She gave a soft cry of surprise, then put her hands back behind her to brace herself. A glance up the length of her body showed her head back, her hair starting to dry as it clung to her shoulders. With one hand he reached up, straining to get to her, but wanting to free her breasts from that bra. He got it unhooked and dropped lower in the water again.

Allison discarded her bra, and then she was gloriously naked poolside, legs spread for him while he drove her crazy with his tongue. It felt good to pleasure her first, to give instead of take. To not be standing there while a woman whose name he couldn’t remember was down on her knees in front of him. This was something else entirely. This was sexy on a whole different level. It was a connection, drawing out mutual satisfaction, not banging or fucking or screwing or shagging. He’d done all of those many times. This was something else.

He sucked her clit, drawing her swollen button into his mouth, feeling something powerful when she gave out a violent cry of ecstasy, her orgasm sending her thighs tighter against his shoulders, a hot rush of moisture cascading forth. It was the sexiest thing ever, feeling and watching her let go and shatter for him.

Bringing her home with him had the best idea he’d had in a long fucking time.

Next up was the wall she wanted and his cock buried deep inside her.

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