A Date With the Other Side (17 page)

“And I had thirty seconds to spare,” Boston said as he pulled back and kissed the top of her head.

There was no mistaking the arrogant satisfaction in his voice. “Give you a gold star.”

“Is that sarcasm?” He gave her a mock frown. “You could be a little more appreciative.”

Stretching her arms over her head, Shelby rolled her neck and gave a soft sigh of sated approval. “Oh, I am, trust me.”

Then he got a little gleam in his eye that worried her. He started nudging her back into the straw. “Let’s see how much you appreciate me when I make you come again.”

Shelby resisted falling back. “Now you’re just being ridiculous, Boston. There is no way I can do that again right now. It’ll be at least a week before you should even bother trying again. Give me time to get… you know,
worked up
,” she whispered.

Flustered and blushing and abandoning hope for reaching her clothes tossed who knew where, Shelby let him pin her back and figured she’d warned him. If he wanted to waste his time it was all the same to her.

She waited. Exasperated and embarrassed and a little bit excited.

“Now is the best time actually.” Boston kissed her chin, her neck, the swell of her breast. “See, you’re still wet, you’re still swollen, your body still wants more.”

Shelby seemed to be going shy on him, but Boston wasn’t interested in allowing that. Watching her come apart in his arms, rocking against his touch, digging into his skin with short nails, had been triumphant and sexy and primal. He’d never taken that much pleasure just from watching, and even though he was more than ready to sink inside all that giving warmth, he wanted to taste her first, drag her under until she was so hot and so ready for him she begged.

Not a passionate person, his ass.

Boston enjoyed the feel of her soft and pliant beneath him, her limp arms draped across the straw, her slumberous satisfaction giving way to impatience. Shelby thought she was done with playing and probably really wanted to continue on with the tour, but for whatever reason wasn’t shoving him away. Either curiosity or politeness kept her there, waiting to see what he would do.

What he was going to do was make her come again. And then maybe again. Not to prove the point to her that he could, but to prove that
she
could.

Boston suckled her nipple, slowly, leisurely, rolling his tongue over the plump nub before pulling back and blowing on it. Shelby shifted beneath him, her sigh a sign of the first stirrings of renewed desire. He moved to her other breast, tasted the underside, nipped along the side, pulled her nipple firmly into his mouth, and sucked hard.

Her breathing changed minutely, the steady rise and fall shifting into a rhythmic pant, and her relaxed shoulders tensed slightly.

He’d felt her before, when his fingers had been buried inside her, felt her struggle, the way she thought and strained and clawed toward an orgasm, and Boston wanted Shelby to forget to think. To forget to worry, to forget about pleasing and performance and to have nothing in her but the rolling need and want of her body. To let her body take her where it wanted to go.

Kissing down her firm abdomen, Boston ducked his tongue into her belly button. She jerked, then settled still again. He’d never considered himself a selfish lover, but loving Shelby showed him he’d never been selfless either. And he wasn’t now. He was taking just as much as he was giving, feeling her smooth body beneath him, and he hadn’t even removed his jeans—with good reason.

If he took off his pants and shed his boxers, it would be damn near impossible to prevent himself from pressing her back into the itchy straw with a quick thrust of his cock.

Which he couldn’t do because he wanted Shelby to have a chance to ache for him, to walk away satisfied yet unfulfilled.

And he didn’t have any condoms anyway.

So the pants were staying on as a security measure.

Boston brushed his lips across her dewy curls, darker than her head of golden-brown hair. “What have we here?”

He roamed over her thighs, light teasing strokes that had her wiggling.

“Boston…”

The way she said his name, so exasperated, so aroused, so different from the women he’d dated before, made him smile over her mound, giving a little laugh that sent hot breath dancing over her. The country in her voice was more pronounced, drawing out his name to twice its normal length, and while there was much to find annoying about Cuttersville, that wasn’t.

Thumbs on her folds, he kissed her clitoris. “Yes, dear? Did you want to say something?”

Shelby gave a snort of derision. “Yes! You’re driving me nuts, and you’re crazy if you think I’m going to have another orgasm.”

He looked up over her stomach, rising ribs and full, plump breasts. “It’s not all about the O, you know. There’s just as much to be said for the trip there as the final destination.”

Drawing his thumbs back, he opened her sex for his viewing. Shelby sucked in her breath when he blew lightly on her. “Shelby, it’s not a failure if you don’t, as long as you have fun along the way.”

Though she was going to pull all the way into the station with a roar if he had anything to say about it. But he wanted them both to enjoy every step of the process.

Just the tip of his tongue connected with her glistening flesh and he closed his eyes. Damn, she tasted good. Like sex and want and sweet, honest woman. He forced himself to pull back and stared at her again, drinking his fill of the sight of her spread out for him, little gleams of moisture sliding down the longer he watched.

His attention was getting a positive reaction.

But she whacked his shoulder. “What are you looking at? Geez Louise, you’d think you’d never seen a naked woman before.”

The ruddy flush in her cheeks showed she was embarrassed more than disgusted by his behavior.

“I’ve never seen you naked before. It’s the best damn view in Cuttersville.” He kissed her clitoris a second time, pausing to suckle it gently.

Shelby bucked on the straw. “Oh, shit! What is
that
?”

He had a winner. Boston sucked harder, darting his tongue down once to swipe over her.

Shelby panted. She swore. She begged him to stop.

So he did.

As he sat back a couple of inches, rubbing her dampness off his bottom lip, she cried out in anguish.

“You’re stopping?” she asked in condemnation, as if he’d suggested stealing candy from kids.

“You told me to,” he pointed out, hiding his grin in her thigh.

“I didn’t mean it.” Shelby flopped back on the straw, long yellow strands of the stuff sticking to her hair, her breasts bouncing. Her legs tried to squeeze together as she moved restlessly, but he was in the way.

She groaned.

He took pity on her. “Oh. I’m sorry. Would you like me to do it again?”

“Yes,” she said, and added in a soft voice, “duh-uh.”

Boston laughed, amused and enraptured with Shelby. “Watch it, Ghost Girl.”

“Quit talking, City Boy.” Her voice came out as an anxious growl, fingers digging into his hair and urging him forward.

The aggressive move shocked him, and set his low-burning lust into high heat. Shoving her thighs apart with his forearms, Boston bent over her and tasted her thoroughly, all the way up and all the way down, licking, sucking, eating, biting.

He wanted all of her, to absorb her scent and feel and to drive her mindless. Shelby clung to his hair, thumbs pressed to his temples, thighs quivering as she gave little soft cries of ecstasy. The air was heavy with the earthy scent of straw and dirt, the sweet desire of Shelby’s wet sex, and her ragged moans.

Boston felt her muscles tighten in anticipation and he knew the exact moment she careened into an orgasm. He swirled around her clitoris and down to slip inside her as she writhed, yelling his name with enough passion and satisfaction to make him thrill from the sound of it.

His cock rested against her lower leg, wanting in on the action, but he ignored his own needs and held on to Shelby and stroked his tongue over her leisurely, even after she’d settled back and tried to push him away.

Drawing out her orgasm on and on, while she whimpered and strained, had him fighting not to join her.

When he finally sat back and saw the look of wonder on her face, the drowsy shock and satiation, Boston pushed himself up the pile. Sweat curled her hair at her temples and ears, and moisture clung to her upper lip, a plump rosy red. Everywhere her skin glistened, and he kissed a trail between her breasts and up her neck until he was pressing his mouth onto her open lips.

“Okay. I guess I’m big enough to admit I was wrong,” she said after breaking the kiss to gasp for air.

“But at least it worked in your favor.”

“True.” Her arms came around his shoulders and she glanced down hungrily. “If you’re still functioning after the eyelet spread incident, I think it’s time for you to take your jeans off and put that thing to work.”

He would love nothing more than to do just that, especially since her thighs had wrapped around him. The heat from her body soaked through the denim and tortured him. He could be inside all that warmth. After a deep breath, he spoke as calmly as he could under the circumstances. “I am functioning very well, thank you, and I’d prove it, but I don’t have a condom with me.”

“No?” Her question was heavy with disappointment.

“Nope. Don’t worry, we’ll get to it soon enough.” If he didn’t die from sexual frustration first. But it had been worth the pain of a rip-roaring hard-on to watch Shelby relax and enjoy herself.

“I suppose I could give you head,” she said, with the enthusiasm normally reserved for a root canal.

He almost laughed. “While I’m sure I would enjoy that, I can wait.”

She tried to hide her sigh of relief, but wasn’t quite successful. “We can go to the CVS and get some condoms. I’ll just call Gran and tell her I’ll be out late.” Rubbing the tip of her nose on his shoulder she asked, “You got bricks for doorstops, right?”

It was almost too good to be true that she was willing to spend the night with him. He’d been afraid that she was done for the night and he would have to wait. But while she was willing, he needed to reassure her quickly about the alleged ghosts before she changed her mind about returning to the White House. “Shelby, nothing is going to happen. The house has been quiet as a tomb since last week.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Maybe it’s us together then that causes activity.”

Maybe it was nothing more than wind and the power of suggestion.

Boston shoved back up, his thighs straining from the awkward position. He shook out his legs and adjusted his jeans before reaching for Shelby’s hand to pull her cute naked butt out of the straw. “I don’t think so, Ghost Girl.”

And a sudden loud moo had him just about jumping out of his skin.

Shelby heard that big old cow mooing in the empty—yes, empty—barn and almost wet the pants she wasn’t wearing.

Boston turned around, hands out in loose fists. “Jesus Christ! Did you hear that?”

Shelby did. The sound of a complaining bovine was replaced with her own scream at top lung capacity as she leaped out of the straw and searched for her clothes. “Oh, dear God! I’m naked! Help me find my clothes.”

Boston gave her the most outrageous look of disbelief she’d ever seen in her life. “Who gives a shit if you’re naked? An invisible ghost cow doesn’t care what you’re wearing.”

It did sound stupid when he put it like that, but she just felt vulnerable as hell standing in the buff with hay stuck all over her ass. Swiping her hands across her skin, she took a few cautious steps toward her shorts, hoping she wasn’t going to inadvertently walk into Strawberry. “That’s easy for you to say, you’ve got your pants on!”

Boston put his hand on his snap, looking exasperated. “I can take them off if that would make you feel better.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it would.” She hadn’t gotten to see a darn thing but his chest, and had gotten to touch even less. It had been
The Shelby Show
for the last half hour, and even though they needed to pick up condoms, at least she should be entitled to a peek.

As Shelby pulled on her panties, giving her rear a little shake to get everything in place as she settled the elastic on her waist, Boston popped his jeans snap open.

Then took a step toward her, with a look she was starting to recognize as his dominating sex look. But then he stopped and said, “Eyaahhh!” and jerked backward.

“Holy shit, something just licked me.”

“What?” Shelby looked at the hand he was holding out for her in horror and damned if there wasn’t a slobbery streak across his palm. “Oh, my…”

“Nasty!” Boston swiped it back and forth on his jeans. “Grab your clothes, babe, let’s get the hell out of here.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Pulling on her halter top, she left it untied, scooped up her shoes, and dragged on her shorts as they jogged through the barn door.

Heading back to the road, Shelby fiddled with the top strings behind her neck and burst out laughing. “You forgot your shirt, you know.”

“Let the damn cow have it.” He stopped and grinned at her. “Here, I’ll get that.”

Gentle fingers worked the straps into a loop. “Is this too tight?” A soft kiss fell onto her neck.

“No, it’s fine.” And Shelby shivered, because Boston was many things that she’d never expected. He was funny and kind, and he was responsible for her feeling that maybe there wasn’t all that much wrong with her sexually.

Maybe she’d been too young when she’d married Danny. Maybe she’d worried too much about having an orgasm, thought about it all the time, and once she’d relaxed with Boston, things had happened naturally.

Or maybe she was falling for him in a big, big way.

She couldn’t go home with him tonight, she realized as they walked down the dusty road, the orange sun sinking in the western sky. Not when she was raw and excited and all too willing to tumble herself into something she couldn’t get out of. She had no barriers from him right now and she knew she needed some.

“Hey, Boston, I just remembered I’m supposed to pick up Gran’s car tonight at the garage.”