Color My Heart: A Red Hot Summer story. (3 page)

When she straightened, Billy had drawn up behind her and his body warmth enveloped her like cashmere. His arms went around her waist and his chin came to rest on her shoulder. “Hey, you.”

Her pussy clenched, her stomach moved, her heart sped. She breathed out a frail,

“Hey.”

“What’s this I see?”

In silence, Hannah scrutinized her work at the same time he did. She was no Van Gogh. No one was going to pay millions of dollars for her works once she was gone. But it was her work, her little way of expressing what words could not manage to say. At least she felt it that way.

“Wow,” Billy said at last. “It’s pretty vibrant and…angry.” He cocked his head and pressed his lips to her ear. The mist of his breath sent tickles down to her bare feet. “Who are you angry with, Hannah?”

She shifted with unease, suddenly feeling as if he’d forayed into her soul. “Me,” she said.

“You? Come on, why would Hannah be angry at Hannah?”

No matter how much the temptation, Hannah was
not
going to dump her personal trash on him. She’d done that in every other relationship she’d had—and had learned her lesson the hard way. She and Kleenex had a long history together. And among the 18

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Color My Heart

insightful, less-than-welcome lessons she’d learned, one stood predominantly from the rest: never trust a man who wants to sleep with you. Period.

Turning in his arms, she gave him a noisy kiss right smack on the lips. “No reason Hannah can’t take care of.” She smiled one of her best smiles. “Now what was it you were here for? Milk? Sugar? Eggs?”

He grinned—the grin that made her toes curl. He said, “Flour.” Then, sheepishly,

“I’m afraid I’m running out of excuses.” He grazed her cheek with his knuckles before his palm cupped her jaw, the pad of his thumb stroking her lower lip. “I wanted to see you.”

That husky confession did all kinds of things to her.

And all she could think of was how easy it would be…to let her guard down.

Let him in.

Tell him about her childhood, her fears, her dreams.

And be disappointed and hurt all over again.

No. She wouldn’t ask for anything, wouldn’t expect anything, and she would certainly not upgrade him to knight-in-shining-armor status like she’d been inclined to do with every man she’d been involved with before. There were no more of those nowadays.

All she could do to safeguard herself was to keep this as casual as it was intended to be.

“You know, you might come in handy after all,” she said, lightening the mood as she took a step back to scrutinize him. “I need a canvas.”

“A canvas?” Oh, that look of disbelief on his face was priceless.

“Yep.” She nodded with a satisfied grin. “Strip.”

He arched his brows daringly. “How about I put that stuff all over you?”

“How about you shush and take your pants off?”

He chuckled, then pulled his T-shirt shirt over his head and unzipped his jeans.

Billy had an amazing body. Sculpted. Tan.

His torso was beautiful, athletic, arms and shoulders rounded with muscles, every inch of him lean and solid. His abs were perfectly defined. A path of fine, silky curls started at his navel and fanned to a wider, darker thatch below. His hips were narrow and www.samhainpublishing.com 19

Red Garnier

led to a pair of long, powerful legs dusted with silky dark hairs. His penis was large, broad. The sight of it stiff and swollen as it snapped free, the skin stretched so tight it gleamed, set off needles of hunger inside her. His deep-set eyes smoldered as he watched her and tossed back the last of his clothes.

His voice was a low rasp. “Your turn.”

Unable to resist him, she stepped forward, close enough to touch him. “I’ve wanted to touch you,” she confessed. His skin felt smooth under her fingers as they danced up his chest, then down to trace the muscles on his abs. “We’re always in such a hurry.”

His restless hands pulled on the hem of her shirt and his breath stirred the hair at the top of her head. “I want you naked.”

Her pussy contracted into a painful ache between her legs. Hannah had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted Billy. She’d never ached this way, or come as violently as she did with him.

Usually she worried too much on what she looked like naked, if she moaned just right, if her partner was finding pleasure, to really get into the act herself. But with Billy she couldn’t even
think
. She could only feel—a burning hunger, a need. Pure, unrefined lust.

“Come here, let me feel you,” he said once her clothes lay scattered across the floor.

She stepped into his powerful arms, skin against skin. Her sensitized nipples brushed against the hardness of his chest and her pussy squeezed in tiny spasms of anticipation.

“Billy.”

“I’ve wanted to do this all day,” he murmured, his mouth on her neck as his big, solid hands moved between their bodies to cup her breasts. Shivers danced down her spine as his thumbs stroked her nipples, going around and around the pebbled peaks, then over them, grazing, pressing.

He guided her back as easily as though they were dancing a waltz and then flattened her rear against the wall, a few feet away from where her easel stood. He ran his hands down her hips as his gaze drifted to the silky V of dark hairs glowing damp at the apex of her thighs. “Open your legs for me.”

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Breathless with impatience, Hannah spread her legs apart, surprised when he began to retreat. On a startled gasp, she asked, “Where are you going?”

He shot her a wolfish grin as he knelt down and lifted a slender paintbrush. “You put ideas into my head.” He waved the slender brush in her face as he returned and paused a few inches from her, the brush poised to strike with the feathery tip toward her.

He smiled in mischief and circled her nipple with the tip, still damp from when she’d cleaned it. Hannah gasped and shuddered from the cold, moist feel of it—and the contrast it made to her fired-up body.

“You like that, don’t you?” His voice was as arousing as the brush tip as he proceeded to do the same to the other puckered peak.

One would never guess Billy was no master painter. He moved the brush with slow, expert strokes. His teasing play made her muscles shake so badly she could barely stay upright.

Heat curled inside her and burned in her womb. With her head back against the wall, her chest heaved with every labored breath. “Billy, please.”

“Legs wider, Hannah, I’m going to brush this baby right into you.”

Hannah gasped when she felt the tip graze her clit, slowly teasing and brushing across the tender nub, up and down.

Her limbs trembled as pure, raw lust thrummed in her veins, clenched around her core. The damp coldness and gentle strokes of the brush tip on that throbbing, sensitized part of her blew her mind. Her heart thundered inside her and the air hissed out of her lungs. Her hands flattened against the wall behind her, offering her much-needed extra support. “Billy—”

“Hold on, sweetheart, I’m really loving this.”

When she looked at him with heavy, misty eyes, she saw that his cock twitched against his abdomen and droplets of semen ran down the tip.

He dragged the brush lower, stroking the turgid, pink lips and the very entrance of her slit until she shuddered wantonly. Then he knelt and lowered his mouth to her clit.

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His lips enveloped the wet little nub and his mouth suctioned, pulling it into his heat. His tongue flicked it, up and down, up and down.

Hannah moaned and arched up to his mouth, shuddering with cold heat as something sleek and long entered her pussy. Not his finger…not his tongue…but part of the brush handle.

Gliding in and out of her creamy pussy.

Hannah screeched and her nipples stung so fiercely she had to clamp her hands on them and squeeze, her head thrashing against the wall. “Billy, fuck! Oh God, Billy.”

“Hannah, sweetheart. I could come just looking at you like this.”

Hannah was ready to come. More than ready. She was feverish. Moaning. Pinching her nipples. Pumping her hips against the sleek, wooden brush handle. Crying out each time Billy sucked on her clit.

His words vibrated against her sex. “I’d love to sink this baby right into your ass while I shove my cock into your pussy. Would you like that, darling?”

The thought of the brush buried in her backside while Billy pounded into her with his hard shaft thrust her right over the edge. Her sex clenched around the brush handle and a cry tore out of her as she exploded.

“Thatta girl, come for me, Hannah.” The hot, gruff words were spoken against her clit before he rolled it under his tongue and worked her through her orgasm. Spasms rocked her, waves and waves of pleasure crashed through her, loosening her muscles, shooting through her veins.

Withdrawing the brush from inside her, he cupped the inside of her thighs and delved his tongue into her wet pussy—hot and creamed—stroking her walls and causing even more tremors to come forth. She clutched the back of his head and pumped her hips, trembling in what seemed like a never-ending bliss. He drank her up with wild thirst and growled when she gave one last sobbing cry.

Minutes afterward, Hannah smiled up at the ceiling, laboring to breathe. Billy came up to kiss her. She could taste herself in his mouth, and the frantic hunger in him.

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His hands shook violently as he cradled her cheek and stabbed her mouth with deep, ravenous thrusts of tongue. Hannah pushed him back at arm’s length and noticed the quick flare of his nostrils, the sheen of sweat across his brow. His chest heaved. His arms were stiff by his sides and corded with tension. He seemed so tightly wound-up he looked ready to explode.

“Give me that, Billy. This is
my
brush,” she teased as she snatched it from him.

“Now stand still, it’s my turn to please you.”

“Are you going to paint me, Hannah?” His voice was so gummy she barely understood him.

She pushed him back against the wall. “I’m going to color you everywhere. And torture you because deep down, I’m evil.”

“I’m shaking.”

Hannah chuckled. She knew him well enough by now to know he meant that as a joke, but Billy wasn’t smiling. He trembled head to toe, was flushed and tense and breathing heavily. The hungry twitches of his cock gave Hannah a perverse pleasure to know she did that to him. “Shh. Quiet or I’ll lose my concentration,” she admonished.

He groaned. “Come on, Hannah, I’m dying here.”

And this was naughty, wicked fun! “I think I’m going for orange here,” she said, brush in hand. She leaned forward to tease one small, brown nipple with a circular stroke, and repeated the motion with the other.

“And blue here.” The feathered tip traveled down his chest, then slowly traced a circle around his navel.

“Then definitely red here.” She lowered her hand to brush up and down the thickset column of his cock. She deftly drew a line around the bloated crown and watched it jerk under her ministrations. A drop of semen emerged and she swiped it up, then spread it across the ruddy head. Billy’s breathing had turned harsh, irregular, and scorching heat emanated from his body.

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“Then I’d go for purple here,” she continued. His abdomen quivered on a quickly held breath when she reached his balls and swiped across every inch of the generous sac.

She was so wet again, she could feel a trickle of cream down the inside of her thigh.

He curled a hand around her wrist. “That’s enough,” he said in a gruff voice.

“But I’m just getting started!”

He took the brush from her and dropped it with flair. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you all day. Come here, Picasso.” With one arm, he hauled her until she was flush against him. His lips crashed down on hers and his kiss seared her until her bones melted again.

“You wanted something in your ass, didn’t you, darling?” he huskily said.

One coiled arm kept her pinned to his body as he delivered a series of rough, wet kisses up her jaw to her temple. He smoothed his other hand down her back and traced the length of her spine with the tip of one finger. He paused at the small of her back and stroked down the dent between her buttocks. “Do you think this will do?”

Hannah shuddered as a light, feathery stroke caressed the outside of her ass. Her pussy watered and tightened with little contractions. “Yes.”

“Let’s give it a try, hmm?” He gently pushed against the tight entrance. The unexpected pressure as he entered caused her to arch against him with a mew. He nipped her earlobe, and she could hear by his voice how perilously close to losing control he was. “Does it feel good?”

She nodded jerkily, gradually adjusting to his finger sliding deep into that part of her.

The slight pain made the pleasure so much sweeter. The hungry contractions in her jealous pussy felt almost unbearable. Hannah placed her hands on his chest and wiggled against him, wanting more. His cock, his mouth on her, more of that breaching finger.

He started moving in and out, visibly straining for control as he blasted hot puffs of air against her temple. “Yeah? That good, Hannah?”

Her legs felt weak, her ass stretching to each in-and-out motion. Gasping, she rubbed her hips against the stiff cylinder pulsing between their bodies. “Yes, God, yes, it’s good.”

“
You’re
good,” he rasped, and ground his cock against her. “So damned good, baby.”

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“Billy please.” She reached between their bodies and grabbed his cock. “I want—”

“Wait right here,” he ordered.

He left her to search his clothes, then came back—all feline grace and flexing muscles—to lean against the wall and roll a condom down the length of his cock, the rubber stretching to hug every wide inch of him.