Sex Drive (13 page)

I lay curled on my side, the way I normally slept, but something definitely wasn’t normal. There was a body curved around me, spooning me. A male body. An aroused male body.

Damien. In a flash, everything came back to me.

What on earth had I done, taking up with a complete stranger? Was this the stupidest thing I’d ever done, or perhaps the smartest? Did it matter? Because the reality was, I’d done it. I was in Honolulu with a very sexy man and there was an impressive erection nudging my backside.

My body was definitely awake now. Between my legs I felt a warm, pleasant ache, partly from having had great sex and partly from anticipating more. I wriggled backward, pressing against Damien.

“Oh, you’re awake, are you, Tezzie?” He kissed the nape of my neck.

“Mmm. Something woke me.” I wriggled some more.

He licked my nape, blew warm air across the damp skin. His arm was around me and, as he’d done before, he stroked my arm, up and down in a soft, tantalizing caress. He shifted position so his penis nudged between my thighs.

I opened my thighs, let him slide between them, then closed my legs so his shaft was trapped there, nestled against my labia and my clit. He pumped his hips gently, sliding back and forth in tiny, rocking movements as the stimulation made me wet. I squeezed my thighs tighter, concentrating on the subtle but sexy sensations. If we kept doing this, I might come. Especially if I reached down to fondle the crown of his penis and press it harder against my clit.

Or if I tilted my hips and he slipped inside me.

But this time, before I came, I wanted to taste him. I slid away and turned toward him. “Lie on your back.”

With a curious smile, he obeyed. His erection rose against his stomach, thick and firm. A needy craving between my legs urged me to just straddle the man and get on with it, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t object. But I’d never seen such a tempting penis—oh damn, what was wrong with calling it a cock?—and I wanted to make a closer inspection.

I scooted down the bed and took him in my hand, lifting his erection away from his body, studying the taut skin, engorged vein, satiny crown. With a featherlight touch I caressed him all over, then circled him with my other hand and pumped up and down a few strokes. Imagining him inside me, my whole body tightened with need, nipples hard, sex throbbing and wet.

“You can go harder,” he muttered. “It won’t break.”

“That’s a relief,” I teased. I tightened my grip for a few strokes, then bent down and began to lick him. With my tongue, I followed the same path my fingers had taken. Exploring every inch of skin, flicking against the vein, licking under the head of his cock and then over the crown. Catching salty pre-cum.

His breathing was audible, fast and a little raspy.

Then I took him between my lips and sucked him in.

“Oh, yeah, Tezzie. Feels so good.”

I took as much of his length as I could, and circled the base of his shaft with my fingers. Then I tightened the suction with my mouth, firmed my tongue-strokes around his shaft, squeezed harder with my fingers and pumped.

He jerked, shuddered. “Jesus! Oh, man, yes.”

With my other hand I caressed his balls, felt them tighten as his hips rose. Then he grabbed me by the hair, not gently, and pulled my head away from him. “Stop. Enough. I want to be inside you when I come.”

“The sooner, the better.”

“Really? Thank God.” The comment was heartfelt, and he further telegraphed his urgency by grabbing a condom package from the bedside table. He ripped it open and handed me the condom. When I fumbled with it—I’d never in my life put one on a man, and his cock looked much too big to accommodate it—he grabbed it back and sheathed himself. “Lady’s choice. What do you want?”

I answered by straddling his pelvis, one knee on either side, his cock rising between my spread legs.

“Good choice. You sure look hot up there.” He smoothed his hands up my thighs and gripped my waist. “And you get to do all the work. I can just lay back and watch.”

“You mean you don’t intend to move at all?” I teased, gripping his shaft, raising up on my knees, bringing his tip to rest against my opening.

“Mmm.” His gaze was intent, watching what I was doing. “Don’t think I could be in bed with you and not move. You’re too f—too damned sexy.”

I’d never been fond of gratuitous cursing. I figured it was lazy, a communication habit of people who couldn’t be bothered finding the correct word. But right now, I thought maybe the word he’d been going to say was the exact right one. With the head of his cock brushing the damp folds of my pussy, I told him, “Say it. Say what you were going to say.”

Now his gaze slanted up to meet mine. Staring into my eyes, he said, “You’re too fucking sexy, Tezzie.”

A thrill rippled through me. I was. With him. He made me passionate, erotic, a little wild.

Using my free hand, I opened myself, then I took him in. Only perhaps an inch. “Yes, I am. I am fucking sexy.” Another inch. “And so are you, Damien Black.” Then I sat down on him, encompassing his full length in one long, hot glide that made both of us gasp.

Locked together, neither of us moved for several seconds.

Then he said, “Lean forward.” His hands tugged on my waist, pulling me toward him.

I tilted down, bracing my hands on his shoulders. “Oh, yes.” At this angle, the base of his shaft rubbed my clit, which was swollen and eager. He could reach my breasts, too, a fact he demonstrated promptly by cupping them in both hands.

“Now.” He squeezed my nipples gently between thumbs and index fingers, making my insides quiver. “Now move.”

I obeyed, starting with slow, small motions, but we were both too aroused to settle for that. Soon, I was lifting almost to the top of his cock, then slamming down to grind and twist against him. Sexy sensations flooded through me, from where he filled and stroked me inside, where my crotch rubbed against his curly hairs, his shaft pressed my clit, his fingers tweaked my nipples. It was a sensual overload and I was rapidly reaching the point of explosion.

Damien, too. His hips rose to meet me, plunging his cock deeper, and deeper still. Rubbing my clit faster, harder with each stroke. Then he groaned and his rhythm became frenzied as he began to climax, and those final strokes deep in my core arched my back and brought me tumbling along with him.

After, when I’d started to breathe again, I slid down to lie on top of him, with him still inside me. “That was wonderful.”

“Oh, yeah.” He stroked my back from shoulder to waist, shoulder to waist, over and over. Hypnotically.

I could have fallen asleep again. But there were things I needed to do. For a few minutes, I indulged myself in cuddling, then pulled away. “I really have to contact my family.”

He gave a good-natured laugh. “Yeah, yeah. I know. And we both have work to do. But in an hour or so, we’ll go buy you some clothes, have lunch, and plan out the rest of the day.”

“Sounds fair. I’m going to take a quick shower. Alone,” I added. Then I grimaced. “Wish I had those clothes now. I hate to get back into the same ones. And the bathrobe is too warm.” Thank heavens at least I always traveled with fresh undies in my carry-on.

“Don’t have to wear a stitch, as far as I’m concerned,” he said cheerfully.

“Dream on.”

When I finished my shower and pulled back the shower curtain, I saw a white cotton sports shirt hanging on the hook on the bathroom door. I dried off, then slipped into it. It covered me to mid-thigh and the loose-weave fabric was cool and light. I studied my reflection in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. In my humble opinion, I looked kind of cute and sexy.

A girl wearing her guy’s shirt after they’d made love. Even though I wasn’t much of a movie-watcher, I did know enough about popular culture to be aware the image was often used, and now I could see its appeal.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Damien was lying on the bed, naked. Another image with definite appeal.

“Thanks for the shirt,” I said.

“My pleasure. It looks much better on you. Great legs, Professor Fallon.” He swung off the bed, reached under the shirt to give my panty-clad bottom a squeeze, then headed into the bathroom.

I decided to check e-mail, to see if there was anything I should know about before I phoned Vancouver. A message from Kat confirmed what she’d said in voice mail.

Cape Cod. Yes, Kat had gone with the man she’d been head over heels in love with at the time. I tried to remember his name, what he’d done for a living. Had he been the international financier from New York, or maybe the Olympic gold-medal skier? Kat had gone through so many love affairs, the details merged. And each time, she was convinced the man was “the one.”

Would she ever learn? Ever develop good judgment when it came to men? Or was she, like me, destined for a solitary life?

I could deal with it—maybe with the addition of an occasional hot fling—but I wasn’t sure Kat, despite her successful career, would be happy on her own. My poor sister. It must be tough on her, seeing Merilee get married.

In the bathroom, the shower shut off. I imagined Damien—the man who’d taught me I was fling-worthy—naked, fresh and clean, dripping water. Beginning to towel off. I toyed with the notion of knocking on the door and asking if he wanted to come out and play.

No, I had to have
some
discipline. Besides, my body was so satiated, the last thing I should be thinking about right now was more sex. I turned back to my sister’s e-mail.

I sighed. I’d believed the same thing myself when I met Jeffrey, but his betrayal had convinced me I was wrong. Of course Kat deserved love—we all
deserved
it—but if she was going to
find
it, she needed to learn a different strategy.

Feeling a little sad for the both of us, I read on.

I groaned. “Honestly? Oh, give me a break.” It was no big surprise that Kat would have found a new man. She never went long without one. But there was something different this time. She wasn’t gushing that she was madly in love with this one. Maybe she
was
learning a new strategy. Perhaps for once she was taking it slow, getting to know the guy before flinging her heart at him. Who knows, maybe this Nav would give her the love she deserved and was so hungry to find. Of course, odds were she’d chosen another loser, but at least this time she might find out before she’d fallen head over heels.

Invitations were already on my project plan, and Kat’s suggestion was a good one. I made a mental note to update the plan.

There were no other family e-mails, just a couple from the uni that I’d deal with later.

I had just picked up my cell to call Vancouver when the bathroom door opened and Damien came out. Naked. No robe, not even a towel. Just six feet of naked male perfection, looking completely at ease in his body.

“Hey,” he said, “how ya going? Talked to your folks?” He wandered over to the dresser where he’d laid out a small stack of clothes, picked up a pair of white boxer briefs, and began to put them on.

White underwear could be boring, but his great body and dark skin turned them into a sexy image that would have made a great advertisement for underwear. Or sex.

This casual intimacy was totally foreign to me, but that didn’t stop me from staring appreciatively. “Uh, no, I was just going to call. I’ve been checking e-mail.”

He pulled on a pair of tan shorts. “I’ve got galleys to proof. I’ll go out on the lanai, give you some privacy. An hour, right?” Shirtless, he squeezed my shoulder and dropped a kiss in my hair, then gathered up his work and went out to settle in a lounge chair.

There was something appealing about the idea of Damien and I being compatible enough that we’d give each other the space to get on with what each of us needed to do.

Speaking of which…I dialed the number of our family home in Vancouver, the one that was now occupied by only Mom, Dad, and Merilee.

Merilee answered, sounding unfocused.

“Hi sis, it’s Theresa. Were you asleep?”

“Oh, hey! Good to hear from you. No, I wasn’t asleep. I’m working on a paper. Can’t believe how much I missed, being off sick.”