AddingHeat (4 page)

“Giselle.” Her name sounded like a prayer on his lips. “I
wouldn’t be averse to you sitting on me. But your touch is a little bit of
heaven all by itself. Don’t stop.”

“I won’t. But I do need the soap and the washcloth.”

She saw the muscle at his jaw twitch at her playful
diversion but he said nothing as he pivoted to reach the soap dish.

Giselle couldn’t believe his forbearance as he allowed her
to soap his arms, his chest and down his belly to his cock. The soap
disintegrated in the water as she smoothed one hand then the other down the
length of him, dallying at the crown to circle and tease it. She moved her
hands down to fondle his balls, which by now had tightened and tucked
themselves close to his body.

“You have a heavenly touch,” he bit out between clenched
teeth.

“It’s a pleasure to do this for you.”

His gaze lasered into her. “Giselle. How does your sunburn
feel?”

Sunburn? He was thinking about her sunburn at a time like
this?

“Totally a non-issue. The heat I’m feeling right now has
nothing to do with sunburn.”

“Good.” With that, he stood upright, rising like Neptune
from the sea, dripping and shiny with moisture, and stepped out onto the bath
mat. He hauled her to her feet then swept her into his arms, one around her
shoulders and the other under her knees. Her mind snagged on the fact that he’d
lifted her with no more effort than if she was a fifty-pound bag of peat moss.

“Which bedroom?”

“Con.” This was the moment of truth. She had a vibrant,
strong, adorable man eager to make love with her. He was younger, much younger
than she. Did age matter? Did the fact that they’d only met a few days ago make
any difference?

So what
, she could hear her cougar challenge buds
say. Your aunt vouches for him as an upstanding member of the community. You’re
not marrying him, you’re just going to fuck him. And younger means more virile,
with more stamina. You’re crazy not to go for it. Take the bull by the horn—so
to speak—and get it on!

While she was mentally dithering, she became aware that his
muscles had tensed. He stopped at the bathroom doorway, water dripping down his
torso. “I beg your pardon for overstepping.” He set her on her feet. The tiles
felt cool on her damp soles. “You make it difficult for a man to think with his
brain.”

He turned to take a few steps back into the bathroom,
snagged a large purple towel, wrapped it around her shoulders then grabbed one
for himself. He did not turn around again.

“Con?”

He was resolutely rubbing the towel around his torso then
down his legs, keeping his skin covered as much as his actions would allow,
keeping his head down and eyes averted. Keeping alive the space that suddenly
yawned between them.

“I’m sorry. I’ll just pop by Mrs. Archer’s home and show her
where to sign the form ten-forty—”

“Con! What the devil’s the matter with you?”

She could see his spine straighten. “I’ve heard that very
tone of voice saying my name when teachers wanted to chastise me. I apologize
for—”

“Conlan Trowbridge, you turn around this minute!” Giselle
didn’t know whether to laugh or be mortified. Did she sound like his teacher?
Did their age difference matter that much to him?

When he didn’t move, she grabbed a fistful of his towel,
yanked it off him and tossed it in the hallway. “Con. Dammit, turn around and
read. My. Lips.”

He turned, seemingly as slowly as the earth revolves around
the sun. She was gratified to note that his cock hadn’t diminished one whit. It
still thrust out impressively in her direction.

She licked her lips as she stared. It jumped under her
scrutiny.

“Con. I wasn’t hesitating because I didn’t want you. I was
afraid you’d think I was too old for you.”

“Good grief, you’re just right, just perfect!”

She opened her arms. “Then come here. We’re not finished.
Not by a long shot.”

Suddenly he was all over her, kissing, stroking, laving
swaths of her skin with his tongue. “Giselle. You’re so kissable. I was afraid
I wanted you so much that I willed the same for you, whether you wanted it or
not.”

“I do, Con. I do want you.” She let her mouth explore the
vulnerable spot where his neck connected with his torso, the bones of his
clavicle, down across his pecs, his chest practically hairless and oh so
smooth. It had been so long since she’d tasted a man’s skin, felt the sinew and
muscle and bone so much stronger than her own.

She shifted to reach the hard bump of his nipple and sucked.
Hard. Then fell to her knees. He murmured a weak demurral, but she resisted his
attempt to bring her upright.

“Con, I need to do this. I need to taste, to feel…” And then
her mouth was too busy to talk, to explain. Oh, the heat of him! The delirious
sensations of smooth, hard, hot and throbbing that was his cock in her mouth
ratcheted her frenzy up another notch. She drew him in, hollowing her cheeks to
hold him there while her tongue stroked and the insides of her mouth and throat
closed around him. Her hands were everywhere, fisting in his soft pubic hair,
stroking a hairy thigh and smooth hip, squeezing and releasing his balls,
snaking around to cup his tight, round ass cheeks.

“Giselle, please. Wait, stop, hold on.”

She felt herself being lifted to her feet and, against her
will, his cock popped out of her mouth.

“Honey, when I come the first time, I want to be looking
into your eyes. Please, let me do it my way.”

She melted. How could she say no to such a heartfelt plea?

“Of course. Follow me.”

From the corner of her eye she noted he grabbed his bike
pack and suddenly wondered, did he have condoms in there? She certainly had no
stash, hadn’t even considered buying any, expecting his visit to be merely a
drop-off of tax forms and maybe a spin around a rural road or two.

But, oh, she was ready, and if he didn’t have any, there’d
be hell to pay.

Snickering quietly to herself, she led him to the master
bedroom, with its queen-size bed still strewn with her hastily discarded
motorcycle ensemble. She swept it onto the reading chair near the window.

And then he was behind her, kissing her neck, pulling the
scrunchie off her damp ponytail to thread his fingers through her dark curls.
He moved his hands to cup her breasts, rolling her hard nipples between thumb
and fingers then shifting his feet, changing her stance as well. The reflection
of the two of them in the mirror above her dresser fascinated her as much as
his ministrations aroused her.

“Look at that face,” he murmured into her ear. “Those
heavy-lidded eyes, the pouting mouth, the rosy skin. A beautiful woman in her
prime, knowing how desirable she is, and offering it to her lover.” He gently
bit the lobe. “Just right. Just perfect.”

She snuggled into him, her back against his chest, his hot
cock nudging its way between her ass cheeks and, holding on to his hips, slowly
gyrated like a wanton. She
felt
wanton. And yes, desirable. In this
dance of seduction, age was irrelevant.

“Help me,” he pleaded as he pinched both nipples. “I don’t
have enough hands. Rub your clit for me while we both watch.”

Now she felt absolutely decadent. She dipped her fingers
into her pussy to lubricate them then stroked the hard nub with one hand,
touching herself in exactly the right way as she watched him pull and tug at her
nipples. She thrust two fingers of her other hand inside her pussy and stroked
herself. A thousand volts of sexual electricity zinged through her. Moisture
gushed down her thighs.

He bit down on her shoulder and lights exploded behind her
eyes.

“Con!” she screamed as her knees buckled.

“Yes.” He held her, one hand squeezing her breast, the other
clamped atop her own hand inside her pussy, until her contractions lessened and
the shards of light coalesced into the mirror reflecting their embrace. Then he
swept her into his arms again and set her atop the spring-flowered coverlet.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t go away.”

She’d have laughed if she could find the energy. She wasn’t
going anywhere until his cock had been inside her for a good long time.

In seconds he slid beside her on the bed. “Miss me?”

At that she did manage a tiny, languorous laugh. “What took
you so long?”

“This.” He pulled her hand to his now-sheathed cock. “It’s
my turn.”

Her slumberous gaze lifted from the cock her hand was
wrapped around to his eyes, the pupils so dilated only a sliver of shocking
blue surrounded them. Her lips tilted upward in a wicked smile. “It’s about
time.”

As she drew her thighs apart in welcome, he rolled onto her.
“You are my living wet dream,” he said, his gaze riveted on hers, and slid his
cock into her, one slow inch at a time until their pubic bones met.

It felt right. It felt as if he belonged there, filling her,
stroking her, slowly at first then with mounting frenzy, their gaze connected
as totally as their bodies were. Everything around her faded except his weight
on her as he pumped his hips, her legs squeezing like a vise around his waist,
the mounting heat, the spiraling desire, the reaching, reaching for nirvana
then finding it. They exploded together like a burning building that collapses
only to revive the fury of the fire until nothing remained except smoldering
embers.

A long time later, after two more orgasms, Giselle floated
back to earth in Con’s arms, every atom of her body sated. Hovering between waking
and sleep, she snuggled deeper into his embrace.

He stirred. “You know, I’ve never been in the middle of an
earthquake before.”

“Mmm. Me neither.” Then her eyes popped open in the darkness
as she assimilated his words. Yes, they’d had cataclysmic sex. But what must he
think of her? They’d known each other only a few days. Would he think she’d
been desperate to get laid because of her age?

As if he’d read her mind, he murmured into her ear, “I heard
you make that comment to your foreman about how old you were. So just in case
you were wondering, I’m thirty-two. Old enough to appreciate your maturity and
life experience, and young enough to take advantage of it.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know how to respond, so she closed her mind
to it and tried to relax enough to sleep. She needed to be ready for the
morning and an uncomfortable conversation with Larry. Seven a.m. would come
soon enough.

Chapter Three

From Giselle: I’m a cougar! At last! And all I can say
is, WOW, did he rock my world! Several times. And did he look adorable with his
face covered with, well, juices. But gawd, I only met him on
Thursday. How can he not think I’m a slut? I need my morning coffee. Plus I’ve
got to focus on work until I get my crews out on the job, but will check in later,
‘cuz I definitely need your further directions and support.

At 6:30 she was in the kitchen in jeans, T-shirt and thick
socks, savoring a second cup of coffee with a buttered bagel. She heard Larry
keying open the outer door to the office that her husband had built as an
addition to the main house. With a sigh she flipped open the deadbolt to the
connecting door. He’d never been a half hour early before.

She wasn’t in the mood for this talk. She wanted to savor
the aching muscles between her legs, wanted to remember Con’s murmured goodbye
in the middle of the night, saying he didn’t want anyone to see him leaving and
compromise her reputation.

Opening the door, she said, “You’re early. I don’t even have
my workboots on yet.”

Thunder emanated from Larry’s eyes. “Who was that pipsqueak
nerd on a bike? And what business did he have with you?”

Giselle tamped down an errant spark of anger. “I told you.
He dropped off Aunt Esme’s income tax forms. They have to be in the mail this
week.”

“So how come it took all afternoon and into the evening?”

Her back went straighter. “And how do you know how long Con
was here?”

“I happened to drive by around dusk and his truck was still
there.”

His accusatory tone of voice didn’t sit well with her. “Did
it ever occur to you that I might have invited him to dinner since he was nice
enough to deliver those papers personally?”

The sharp look he gave her made her take a step back.

“It might have, if the kitchen lights were on.”

She blinked. “Larry, what I do on my own time is none of your
business.”

He took two steps forward, crowding her against the counter
near the sink. Close up, his dark eyes glittered and the deep crows’ feet
around his eyes stood out in stark relief. “Giselle, I’ve given you plenty of
time for your grief. I miss Felix too. He was a great guy. But he’s been gone
almost four years now, and I think it’s time you realize that I haven’t just
been helping you out because I felt sorry for you.”

Her rigid stance softened. How to say this diplomatically?
“I know, Larry, and I’m grateful to have such a loyal friend.”

“Friend, hell. Dammit, stop playing coy! You and I are well
suited for each other. That kiss wasn’t all one-sided. You responded to me like
a seedling does to the sun. I want more, Giselle. I want all of you.”

Stroking her cheek with a calloused finger, he cajoled, “You
know you couldn’t have kept the business going without me. Not only do I keep
the boys in line on the job, I order the supplies, approve the bills and hold
the clients’ hands. I’ve always been there for you. We belong together.”

Giselle’s eyes went wide. “Larry—”

“That’s right, you didn’t even see what was right in front
of you.” His voice softened. “I love you, Giselle, I wanted you the whole time
you were working alongside Felix. It damn near killed me not to say anything,
but Felix was my friend. So I made myself indispensable to him, so he’d keep me
around. And after he died, I felt that I had a clear shot at you.”