Never Enough (16 page)
“Hey. Where’s your car?” He looked around.
“At the shop.” She unlocked the door and went inside, heading straight to the heat to turn it on. “What brings you here today?”
“I wanted to see Miles and you said I should feel welcome to come by.”
She handed him a key on a small fob bearing a plastic image of a vintage woman holding a cup of coffee and a slice of tart. When Jules had first opened her doors, all her friends got together and presented them to her as promotional items for the shop.
“Here. This way you won’t have to wait in the cold if I’m out. Would you like some tea?” She began to move around, turning on the stove to heat the water, grabbing the teapot and mugs, measuring out tea. “Miles won’t be out of school for a few hours.”
“I know. I mean, I know Miles won’t be back until two forty-five. He told me.” Adrian’s smile was sweetly charmed; it stripped her reserve away. He held the key up. “Thank you. I appreciate the gesture. Knowing I could come here today and see him, knowing you’d welcome me . . .” He paused, watching the way she put out placemats and then the cups and tea.
“Sit. Of course you’re welcome. This is your son’s house and so that means the door is open to you.” She poured out, enjoying the smoky sweet scent of the tea. “It’s jasmine green tea. Low on the caffeine. Miles was over the moon every time you called. I wanted to be sure I told you because of course he’s not a very chatty phone person and I didn’t want you to think he wasn’t pleased.”
“Thank you for that. For being our mediator of sorts as he and I try to figure out our relationship. It’s a big help for both of us.”
He ducked his head again and she was, again, charmed.
“I wanted to see you too. I’ve thought about you all week.”
She looked to him over the rim of her mug. This was stupid really. She knew what his life must be like; she’d seen a small slice of it, and that was just the classical music world. His universe was . . . well, certainly filled with experiences and people far outside her life here on the island.
She wanted him anyway. The time she had when it was just Gillian and Adrian was something she enjoyed greatly. She
liked
Adrian Brown in a way she hadn’t liked a man in a very long time.
liked
Adrian Brown in a way she hadn’t liked a man in a very long time.
“Say something.”
“It occurs to me, Mister Brown, that you’re entirely unused to being befuddled, thwarted or told no.”
“It only makes my cock harder when you get very prim and British. Almost as much as it undoes me when you lose that uptight and you start dropping consonants and get filthy and sort of bitchy.” He winked and sat back, sipping his tea. “This is nice. I love the scent.”
It wouldn’t do to encourage him, but she couldn’t help but smile at his comments as she squeezed her thighs together under the table to quell the ache he’d brought. “I thought about you this week too.”
“You did?”
“Yes. Don’t pretend you’re surprised. Are you fishing for compliments?”
“If I was, would you give me one?”
She sniffed, extra prim just for him. “You eat pussy like a gold medalist.”
He put his mug down and threw so much smolder her way she nearly gasped.
“As compliments go, that’s a winner. I thought about that all week too. The way you tasted as you sat above me, your cunt, hot and slick, against my lips. Do you know how many times I fucked my fist, imagining it was you I was inside?”
Things fluttered in her belly. A novel sensation. She wasn’t usually prone to that sort of breathless reaction to a man. This one though, broke through all her rules and regulations.
He fussed up her ordered world with gleeful abandon. And for some reason she couldn’t quite explain to herself, she couldn’t find the energy or the will to fight it.
“How many times, Adrian?” she asked, feeling so free with him to unleash that part of herself. It was just the two of them there.
His gaze went hooded. He moved his chair back, away from the table. His long legs stretched out. She watched, ensorcelled by the way he ran his palms down his thighs. “Twice a day. You make me feel like a sixteen-year-old boy, Gillian. And even that wasn’t enough.”
“Show me.”
If she’d been expecting him to get shy now, she had another thing coming. Her breath caught as he reached upward, unbuckling his belt. Her muscles jumped slightly at the metallic sound as he moved it aside, opening it before moving to his buttons.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
Some American things were simply undoubtedly better. Buttondown jeans were one of those things. A zipper was sexy enough, yes, but that sound as the metal button cleared the denim seemed to mainline straight to her clit.
The room heated up as he opened the vee of the denim wider, shoved his shorts aside and pulled out his cock.
She may have let a small sound of longing slip out. One of his brows rose and his smile hitched up a notch.
“You sound hungry, English.” His voice changed at the very end, when his thumb slid through the bead of pre-come on the head of his cock, smearing it.
She crossed her legs, lazily kicking one foot and wishing the friction was enough to help get her off.
“And what if I was?”
“You keep teasing me like that and you’ll get your answer.” He said this as he began to slowly thrust his cock through his fist.
“After you’ve finished, you can give it to me.”
She meant to joke, but it wasn’t. He didn’t take it that way either, only locking his gaze on her though she couldn’t look away from the way he handled himself.
Sure. Aggressively masculine. Rougher than she would have. She licked her lips and made him groan. That only made her ache more.
“Still not as good as what it feels like in your mouth. Or your pussy.”
She stood and walked toward him. He continued that thrust, thrust, thrust as she approached, though his mouth quirked up at the corner. Behind him, she leaned over, her breasts to his back, mouth at his ear, gaze back on his cock, slick, hard and dark as he drew closer to climax.
“Watching you jack yourself like this makes me wet,” she whispered.
He strangled out a curse, sped his pace.
“When I make myself come I’m going to think about this moment. When my fingers slide between my legs, into my panties, I’m going to play with my clit and think about the way your cock looks in your hand.”
He groaned, tipping his head and turning it, meeting her mouth in a desperate kiss. She stretched, her fingertips brushing against his hand as he came, the warmth of it a brand against her skin.
Adrian tasted her mouth, groaning as he came, groaning again as she broke the kiss and circled him, licking her fingers covered with his seed.
She had no real idea what she did to him, he could tell. Didn’t matter really. He’d have her, and by the time she realized it, he’d be dug in deep. Like a tick.
He grabbed some paper towels and she helped get him cleaned up, even gently tucking his cock back into his shorts.
“Now, I believe you had an answer to give me?” She had this way of smiling at him. He watched her enough, well, a lot, to know she didn’t use that smile with anyone else. Teasing. Sexy.
That smile made him sort of dizzy.
He bent his knees and caught her with his shoulder, hefting her up and toting her down the hall to her bedroom.
He tossed her on the bed and she laughed. “You’ve hauled me around like a sack of goods!”
Her laughter died when he got to his knees and took the hem of her skirt and inched it up, dropping kisses against her hose.
Stockings actually. Her skin was warm just where the edge of the material met her thighs.
He began to yank and she sat up with a squeak.
“Oy! That’s my skirt, you’re going to rip it.”
That was unexpected. He hit a nerve there.
He held his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, darlin’. The stockings were a surprise. Got me all hot and bothered.”
She got up and carefully stepped from the skirt, hanging it in her closet and then doing the same with her sweater and little shirt thing she had on.
And then he forgot what he’d been worried about because she was standing there in thigh-high stockings, sheer panties and a gorgeous pale blue bra, her tits mounded at the top edge like something he had to have a taste of.
“Now, where was I?” He crawled across the floor to her, slowly moving up her legs to place an openmouthed kiss at the back of her thigh, right against the top of the stocking.
“That’s a very nice place to pick up.” The burr in her voice had smoothed again and he relaxed, pausing to squeeze her ass, kiss each cheek where it met her thigh.
He kissed his way up her side, over the delicious curve of her.
“Your body is off the chain,” he murmured, mouth against the swell of her belly, enjoying the way she clutched at his shoulders to stay standing when he dipped his tongue into her belly button.
“That’s a good thing?”
He’d reduced her to breathless. Good. He didn’t want to be alone.
He popped the back hooks on her bra and within a breath her breasts were in his hands, nipples burning into his palms. Grabbing the material of her panties with his teeth, he pulled them down and she stepped from them. This left her in nothing more than those stockings of hers, her hair still bound at the back of her neck.
“It’s a very good thing.” He surged to his feet, embracing her, pulling her in close.
Petite and nearly naked, she should have felt fragile against him. But she didn’t.
“I’ve been dreaming about licking you until you made that quiet little sound. But now no one is here and we don’t have to be quiet.” He drew her back to the bed and she came with him, pulling her hair loose as they went.
They landed on her bed, side by side and he went back for a kiss. Soft at first, teasing her sweet lips open, making way for his tongue.
He wanted to lose himself in her, just lay with her here for hours, kissing and touching.
But now they didn’t have time for that so he’d take what he could get, what she gave him so willingly.
He moved away, reluctantly, from her mouth and over her closed eyes, across her cheeks and against her temple. Her mouth curved up as he paid homage to her jaw and down her neck.
The phone in his back pocket sounded and with a groan he sat up to turn it off.
She watched him with a shiver of delight. There was something about being totally naked against him while he was fully clothed that really pushed her buttons. He was tousled, flushed from arousal; his eyes held a gleam that told her he had wicked intentions.
“Today is a very good day.”
He tossed the phone on her dressing table and moved back into place. “Is it now?” He licked over one nipple and then the other, scraping his teeth across it until she arched.
“Yes!”
He continued the erotic assault on her nipples and tiptoed down her belly with one hand, carefully spreading her labia and exposing her clit to the air, tickling it just a little with his fingertip until a ragged moan made its way up from her gut.
“These tits drive me crazy.”
He flattered and it wasn’t empty. The awe was there in his voice, in the way he touched her body and definitely in the way he looked at her.
Then she couldn’t decide if she was upset that he moved away from her nipples and promptly forgot about that as he kissed and licked his way down her belly.
And she lost all coherent thought when he spread her wider and took a long lick with a little swirling flourish against her clit.
Giving in, she let herself touch him, let herself slide fingers through his hair. Let herself tug him upward as she rolled her hips to get more.
He groaned, the vibration sounding through her, setting her senses aflame. She did wince a little when his fingers dug into her hips again and he paused to see what was wrong.
“Bruise from last week. Don’t stop now! It’s fine.” She tugged and tugged until he gave his own ouch. He moved up to kiss the fading bruises.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I like them. And I really liked where you were there, you know, your face in my pussy? Can we get back to that, please?”
“I like it when you get all panicky about your orgasms.” But he did get back to work quickly and she sighed happily when he found that rhythm again with the licks and swirls.
She wouldn’t last long; she knew this about herself. It was very easy for her to get off, and having a man who so obviously loved oral sex with his mouth on her, his tongue whispering sweet nothings to her clit, was already getting her 90 percent of the way.
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