Then Kiss Me Read online

Page 9


  “Maybe so, but I don’t feel tense.” Maybe I was nervous. No, it was probably sexual tension.

  He kept massaging my shoulders, and it felt like my bones were melting out of my body. His hands felt so strong on me and yet so gentle. “Wow—that feels incredible.” I let my head lull forward, relaxed. But I was aching for him. I wanted him to touch me all over, but I was going to enjoy the moment.

  Wendy said, “Excuse me,” and got up, heading to the kitchen. Yep…just as I’d thought. She’d just been trying to scare me off so she could have Scott all to herself. I wasn’t that easy to scare, though. Now that she’d vacated my old spot, I moved over, and Scott slid off the arm of the couch next to me. I noticed that one of his arms was still on my shoulder, so I leaned into him a little. Mmm-hmm…this was nice.

  Jim was playing a prank on someone across the room, laughing loudly enough that we could hear him over Slayer, the music that was blasting through their place. Scott said in my ear, “Come with me. I want to show you something.” I looked at him, curious. He grinned. “My new stereo. You like music, so I figured you’d appreciate it. It’s up in my room.” I chugged the rest of the water in my cup and then he grabbed my hand to lead me through the crowd. We headed up the stairs. I slipped on a step and then starting giggling uncontrollably. “C’mon, you nut.” I kept laughing but managed not to trip again.

  We entered his room. I immediately noticed how much quieter it was once he shut the door. Sure, I could hear the music from the living room, but we’d actually be able to talk without yelling in here. His stereo, on the opposite side of the room, was decent size, but the fucking speakers took up half of one wall. They were pretty impressive. I was drawn to it. “Looks great,” I said. My eyes took silent mental stock of his room as I walked across. There was a bed (a double—thank God), a chair, a desk, some books and trophies. Tons of CDs. A small drum kit in the corner, but not the one he’d been playing at the party where I’d first seen him in action. All in all, it was pretty tidy for a guy’s room.

  He was showing me different buttons on the stereo. Boys and their toys. My eyes wandered to the rows of CDs below and next to it and started looking at all of them. He had a lot of CDs of bands I liked and some I only knew by name, but I spotted Lamb of God’s Wrath, a personal favorite, and pulled it out of its place on the shelf with my index finger.

  I handed him the case. “Oh, so you like these guys?” I nodded. “Yeah, there’s definitely hope for you, Casey Williams.” I giggled.

  He put the CD in the stereo and turned it up—not too loud but loud enough to drown out the noise below. The delayed guitar riff to “The Passing” started playing, sounding crisp and clear from those gigantic speakers. Scott leaned over and pressed the forward button so it skipped ahead to the next track, “In Your Words,” a heavier song that would better show off the capabilities of the stereo. I could feel the demanding music in my abdomen, in my heart. It was a visceral feeling that grabbed me deep inside and incited the animal inside me. “Sounds fantastic,” I said, closing my eyes to concentrate on the music.

  I felt his hands slide around my waist from behind, and my abdomen, my thighs, my neck tensed in response. Oh, shit…I eased out a deep breath. He whispered in my ear, “You like it?”

  Like what? The stereo or his hands on my body?

  A shiver charged up my spine as my nipples hardened. I swallowed and forced my voice to stay calm. “Yeah. Great stereo.” My voice was coming from my throat—hoarse and gravelly. I found my composure and turned around, his arms still wrapped around my waist. He leaned back a little to give me room, but we were close. God…the heat coming off him. I tried not to shudder. I was feeling playful, though, and I asked, “Are you coming on to me?”

  He smiled back but kept his distance. “Maybe.” Then, “Why?”

  “Because if you aren’t, I’m going to turn back around and listen to this CD. But if you are, I’m going to kiss you.” Holy shit. Had I actually said that? My heart started beating more rapidly.

  He stood there for a second, the smile on his face fading into something else. I saw his pupils grow darker as I sucked in a deep breath. “Then kiss me,” he said.

  I could barely fathom what he’d just said. The only thing I knew is he’d just given me complete control over what happened here. And he’d just invited me to kiss him. More than that, though, he’d just confessed to me that he was attracted to me like I was to him. I was nervous. I didn’t want to fuck this up. I moved forward slowly, closing what little gap there was between us, and slid my arms around his neck. I didn’t have to be anxious—we both wanted this. So I leaned forward and let my lips touch his gently. His responded, and I felt his tongue brush my lips. My heart started pumping harder in anticipation of what was to come. I let my lips part as his tongue made its way inside and began exploring my mouth. Oh, God…I couldn’t help the small moan that formed in my throat, and it was just a fucking kiss. Oh, but it was sensual. His tongue was smooth but firm and insistent. And even though I could taste schnapps on his breath, I could taste him too, and I liked it. My fingers danced on his neck, and then I ran them through his hair. Just feeling him close, his holding me tightly, feeling the warmth of his body against mine was like heaven. He pressed me even closer to him, and then, in one quick motion, he was lying on top of me on his bed. I felt so aroused at this moment, and he was only kissing me. If he were as good at sex as he was at kissing, I was in expert hands—exactly what my neglected body needed.

  And then I felt him—for the first time in a long time, I felt a man’s swollen, steely penis up against me, needing me, wanting me, desiring me, only me. I felt him up against my leg, throbbing and pulsing, rock hard, and just feeling his desire made mine grow. My panties grew wet as I yearned for his touch. I could hardly wait, and yet I wanted this time together to last forever.

  Instead, we kept kissing, each of us seeming to relish the moment. It was as though we’d been made for each other, like our bodies belonged together. I was ready to completely surrender myself to him. He was ready too, that much I knew, but he didn’t do anything more. His hands stayed safely at my sides, holding me gently.

  And, finally, he stood up and then grabbed my hands, pulling me up too. He looked at me. I’m sure I looked confused. “Look, Casey, you’ve had too much to drink. I don’t want to—”

  “What?” I laughed. “Yeah, I’m feeling good, but—”

  “We shouldn’t do this. I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “No. Believe me, there is nothing I would like better than to make love to you.” He brushed a piece of hair out of my face with his hand. “But I don’t want you to hate me tomorrow.”

  I grabbed him around his torso and pulled him close again. His fingers were laced through my hair. “I’m a big girl, Scott. Hell, I’m a divorced woman, okay? And I haven’t been with anybody in a long time.” I tried to do a mental calculation. Considering Barry and I hadn’t slept together the last few months of our marriage, it had been at least six months, maybe longer, since I’d felt a man’s touch. I wasn’t quite sure. And I wasn’t sure the last time I’d enjoyed sex with abandon. I lowered my voice and pressed my nose to his. “And I want you.” He was considering it; I could tell that much. “And I don’t want to wait.” I licked my bottom lip. “Trust me…I wanted you just as much when I was completely sober.”

  A slight smile crossed over his face, and then his eyes grew dark. His fingers in my hair drew my face to his, and we were kissing again, harder, more passionately, more urgently. I grabbed the bottom of his shirt, and we broke away to pull it over his head. I ran my hands slowly up his torso—rock-hard, each muscle defined; I was sure another soft groan escaped my lips as I enjoyed touching his perfect body. I ran my hands up his pecs to his shoulders and moved down his arms that were making their way past my shoulders to my waist. Oh, yes…I was being transported to paradise.

  Scott was a new experience for me. Barry
and I had been married for more than four years, and I’d been with him exclusively for over five. So all my most recent sexual memories involved him. Barry was tall and wiry; he had muscles like any man, but he didn’t have definition like Scott’s. I could’ve run my hands over his chest dozens of times that night and felt satisfied. He was all man, testosterone-fueled and driven to definition by punishing his own body. But his pain became my pleasure. Except while I enjoyed touching the flesh of his chest and abdomen, I had other plans.

  Next thing I knew, he was pulling my shirt over my head. He was looking down with what appeared to be approval—maybe of my body, maybe of my awe of his. I tried not to worry about it. I could hear my mother’s voice in my head telling me I was too thin. Sure, my D boobs had become Cs, but I wasn’t bony. I was thin but I had no ribs sticking out. Scott didn’t seem to have a problem with the way I looked, so I tried not to think about it.

  Meanwhile, my fingers wouldn’t stop tracing all the hard ripples his sinew made in his flesh. He whispered, “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

  “Too long,” I said, and he gently lay me back on the bed. He lay on his side next to me, one of his hands caressing my breast through the lacy sheer white bra. I kissed him again, and he pulled me close, his hand moving to my back. In an instant, he reached back and unclasped my bra. It loosened, and I straightened my arm to help him remove the strap. He let go, and it fell to the bed, still hanging on my other arm. He caressed my breast again, kissing me harder. My head swam—maybe it was the alcohol, but I was sure it was the passion I was feeling. I kicked my shoes off with my feet, and I felt him kick his off too. Then his index finger started tracing a pattern around my exposed nipple. So far, what he was doing had been perfect and I was already teetering on the edge of what would likely be an explosive orgasm.

  I gasped as his lips moved to my neck, then down to that same nipple he’d been touching. His tongue traced around it just like his finger had, and my breath became jagged. My nerves were begging for him to touch me more, touch me harder, fuck me deeply. But I didn’t say a word, knowing the more patient I was, the more my body’s response would pay off spectacularly.

  I was ready to go further—much further. As my hand moved back over his stomach, I stopped. I unbuttoned his jeans and ran my fingers through the hair around his bellybutton, teasing, trying to heighten his arousal. Maybe he didn’t need more arousing, but I hadn’t either. I just wanted him feeling as good as I was. I brushed my fingertips along his waistband to his back, tickling gently with my fingernails. I traced them back to the front again. Not once did he let up from kissing me. Sometimes he would kiss me slowly, gently, but when I incited him more, his kisses became harder, driving, and passionate. But no matter how he kissed me, he seemed to be in complete control. My hands continued moving, now working their way under the elastic of his boxers. I couldn’t help but find his cock, and it was still hard and throbbing. The tip was already wet, ready to punish me, and I twirled my thumb around the crown, lubricating him. Then I stroked his length, caressed him, squeezed him, anticipating the moment when he’d drive himself into me and I’d release around him, feeling like a new woman. He let out a deep breath but made no other sound. He paused as though he had to get his bearings.

  He pulled away slightly and put his hands under my arms. He pulled me the rest of the way onto the bed, looking at me with his dark, lustful eyes, not saying a word. He was ready for action.

  Quickly, he unbuttoned my jeans, and I could feel the strength in his hands as they touched my super-charged flesh. At this new angle, I had to release his cock, but he didn’t seem to mind. Like a master, he pulled my jeans and panties off quickly and efficiently. But he slowed down, sitting on the foot of the bed, and he pulled off one of my socks and then the other. His jeans, though unbuttoned and unzipped, were still on. He held my leg up to his lips and kissed my ankle. I looked up at him. Would he just get up here and fuck the shit out of me already? I was desperate.

  Oh…but I’d misunderstood. He got back on the bed and slid his hands up the inside of my legs. I felt myself writhing, aching for him to just touch me. My eyes rolled back in my head and I pushed my head into the pillow, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. As his hands traveled up my thighs, he spread them apart, and I was more than willing for him to touch me any way he wanted. I wove my fingers through my hair to stop my hands from touching myself in impatience.

  His ran his thumb up my slit, and it was a delicious preview of what was to come. “Oh, Jesus,” I breathed, urging him to stop teasing. And the next thing I knew, his tongue was on my clitoris, slowly at first, and a throaty utterance flooded out of my mouth. Before I could catch my breath, he’d sped his tongue up to keep up with the insistent beat of the music. “Mmmm,” I purred as his tongue continued lapping at me, causing my muscles to tighten. But then I felt my thighs starting to shudder, ready to collapse in orgasm, and I had no control over it. I was panting and realized my fingers were wound through his hair now. His hands pressed into my thighs were almost exerting too much pressure, but the pleasure I was feeling kept distracting me from the pain. And then, suddenly, I felt an incredible orgasm wash over me, and a long, low moan flooded from my lips. Wave after wave flowed over me, through me, and then I felt a chemical reaction in my body as endorphins pumped through my veins, relaxing me from head to toe.

  Scott kissed my thigh and looked up at me, grinning. I smiled back. It was weak, but it was there. “Fuck,” I breathed. He stood up and reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. Then he pulled his jeans off. He took a condom out of his wallet and pulled his boxers down.

  Oh, shit. He was beautifully stiff and well endowed. Yum. Bring on round two. My smile was wider now and my breathing once again quickened in anticipation. I wouldn’t mind another orgasm this soon, no matter how exhausted I felt. He slid the condom on and locked eyes with me.

  In just a few seconds, he was over me, consuming me in a kiss. My legs, bent at the knees, were in a V, begging him to enter me. I tilted my pelvis, inviting him in. This time, when he bent his head forward, his lips met mine with force. Sweet Jesus. My response to him had whipped him into a frenzy, and I was in for a wild ride. I wrapped my arms around his waist and drew him close. And then he slid in, slowly at first. “Oh, God,” I moaned, as he filled me. I gulped air in jagged breaths, already at the brink once more. He sped up and I opened my eyes, wanting to see him. His eyes were closed, clamped shut, as though he were concentrating. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was teetering on the edge of climax too, and he was trying to prolong the buildup as long as he could.

  Bu then he started moving more quickly, unable any longer to deny the instincts his body was forcing him to obey. Not only did his body’s needs demand it, but the music’s beat was no doubt wound into his mind, urging him to keep time with his rhythm. Fuck…it was sexy as hell, and some part of me realized I had never made love to metal music before. It hadn’t been Barry’s “thing.” It quickly became my thing as I felt how it changed and drove our lovemaking.

  I moved my hands up to Scott’s shoulder blades. The strength I could feel through his muscles only added to my aroused state. I was gasping, getting closer, and I knew he was on the brink too. He was focused on just one thing. All else was distraction, including my fingertips scratching a trail of fire down his back. I gritted my teeth and opened my eyes again. This time, his eyes were open too, but he looked like a man possessed. His eyes were smoldering, on fire, and just seeing him look at me like that pushed me over the edge. I had thought a smirk was going to cover my lips but instead my body betrayed me and my eyes fluttered closed as I became consumed by another orgasm. I groaned and continued grinding my pelvis into him so that I could derive maximum pleasure from each slamming stroke he delivered. My mind skyrocketed into the ether, and I could no longer think coherently. I lost complete control, moaning loudly, grateful for both the music in Scott’s room and the music below drowning out my sounds to all except the one man they were
meant for. And if I’d thought I was anywhere near being done, I was kidding myself. My thighs throbbed in response to his rhythmic pounding, each pulse sending new undulations of pleasure tingling through every pore of my body…of my fucking mind. My fingernails dug deeper into his back.

  When I was able to focus again, I saw he was at that point too. He was biting his lip and he looked almost angry, but I knew he was just holding on. “Fuck…that was incredible,” I breathed, my lips next to his ear. And then he could hold it no longer. He slammed into me hard, paused, then slammed again…and again. And then he remained still for a moment while he was overcome by the same incredible feeling I’d just enjoyed moments earlier.

  I could smell his skin, his shoulder right next to my lips. I had to taste him again. I just couldn’t resist, and I took his neck in between my lips. I felt him let out a big breath of air and he laid his head next to mine face down on the bed.

  God, he felt incredible. I slid my hands down his back, able now to enjoy the artistic perfection of his flesh and muscle. I stopped when my hands cupped his ass. Mmmm…I could tell it would take a damn long time to get tired of this boy…if that were even possible. We didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but I became even more aware of the music now, unimpeded by our lack of motion.

  Then I heard him say, “My God,” but it was muffled by the bedspread. He rolled off of me and pulled the covers down, patting the sheet, inviting me next to him.

  We faced each other, heads resting on the pillow, nose to nose. I closed my eyes for a moment and sighed. I smiled, breathing in his smells, and opened my eyes again. Yes, this was real. He lifted his hand and ran his fingers through my hair, drawing it back away from my face. He smiled back at me as the CD switched to the next song. In the silence between the two songs, I could hear the party raging below. But it was no rival for the party storming through my heart.