The Sex Solution (11 page)

Hel-lo?
She was a grown woman. She’d dated men. She’d touched. She’d hugged. She’d kissed. She’d even slept with a few. She wasn’t a shy, overweight, nerdy Chem Gem anymore, even if she had answered the door in her bunny slippers the night before.

Tonight she wore a pair of strappy sandals with a thick heel that made her arch her back just enough when she walked to give her breasts more perk and her bottom a nice lift.

“You’re late,” she blurted several moments later as she opened the door. Her annoyance took a temporary vacation at the sight of him.

He filled up the front porch, looking so tall and dark and handsome in nothing but a simple black button-up shirt, the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, faded jeans and worn cowboy boots. He smelled of leather and soap and hot, aroused male, and her nostrils flared in response.

He pulled off his cowboy hat and ran a hand through his short, dark hair. The muscles in his arms bunched and stretched his sleeves and her breath caught.

His grin was slow and easy and so damned self-assured, as if he knew the effect he had on her. “Hello to you, too.”

“Let me guess.” She stepped back, motioning him inside. “Another trapped cow.”

“A fence came down. I’ve spent all afternoon hammering up barbed wire.” He followed her into the living room and perched on the edge of the sofa. He eyed the display of samples on the coffee table. “Looks like you had a busy day in the kitchen.”

“And every other room in the house.” At his questioning look, she added, “I started out on the back porch where I fed and watered the dog and the plants. Then I walked the dog. Then I bathed the dog upstairs thinking I might be able to wash off some of the extra hair. It didn’t work and so I had to vacuum the upstairs and the downstairs, on account of Twinkles having raced through the house, shaking and spraying everything with water
and
hair. Then I spent a good thirty minutes trying to wake up Uncle Spur from his noon nap—he sleeps like the dead. Then another hour trying to talk him into dropping the charges against the pastor’s mother—which he finally did. Then another hour convincing him to eat lunch at the diner before he went to the bowling alley to scope out women. Then I finally made it into the kitchen.”

“You sure you want to do this tonight? If you’re tired—”

“Annoyed maybe, but not too tired. Not for this.” She could tell by the way his eyes flared a bright blue that he knew exactly what she meant. “I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

He eyed her for a long moment, feeding the tension in the air with his hungry gaze before he sat down on the couch.

“Bring on the samples.” He held out his hands.

“I need your hands free tonight. This is a touch test.” She sat beside him and twisted around to reach for the blindfold draped across the back of the sofa. As she did, her nipple grazed his upper arm and sprang to life.

His eyes fixed on the reaction. He licked his lips and she knew what he wanted. To lean down, draw the tip into his mouth and tease its ripeness through the thin fabric of her blouse.

Instead, he swallowed and closed his eyes.

After last night, she’d half expected him to pin her to the wall the moment she’d opened the front door. She’d wanted him to.

Instead, he seemed reserved.

She knew she would have to stay on the offensive and push his buttons the way she had the night before, until he was so hot and bothered that he couldn’t help himself. He would respond then, and they would finish what they’d started last night. In the meantime…

She leaned into him and wrapped the satin around his face. Her breast teased him again, the friction of her nipple brushing back and forth sending a ripple of heat through her own body.

She caught a groan before it worked its way to her lips. She forced a calming breath as she walked over and turned off the radio. Silence settled in the room, disrupted only by the pounding of her own heart and the hum of the air conditioner.

She perched beside him and reached for the first sample.

“This is number one,” she said. “I’m going to smooth it onto your skin. Relax and concentrate on the sensation for a few seconds. Then use three words to describe the sensation you feel.”

She scooped a few drops of lotion and touched the tender skin on the inside of his wrist.

He sucked in air as she started to smooth the tingling sample over his skin, up and down, rubbing the lotion from his wrist, up the inside of his forearm. He groaned, the sound feeding the desire pulsing through her own body.

“Okay,” she murmured. “Three descriptive words.”

“Incredible.”

“And?”

“My…” He drew in a breath. “Pulsing. I feel pulsing. Like it has a life of its own.”

“No sentences. Just a descriptive word.”

“Electric.”

“That’s good.” She took a damp cloth drenched in alcohol and removed the sample from Austin’s skin before leaning over and reaching for his opposite arm.

“We’ll let that spot recover while we do another.” She applied the next sample, her ears piqued for every nuance of sound that escaped his sensual lips.

While the lotion was supposed to be turning him on, she was the one who felt on fire. Touching him. Hearing him. Wanting him.

“This is sample two.” She rubbed her fingertips against the dab of lotion, working it into his skin. Her fingers moved higher, taking the same path she’d used on the opposite arm. She smoothed the concoction along the inside of his forearm, working toward the bend of his elbow. His veins bulged, as if the blood flowed harder and faster at her touch. His arm flexed, his muscles tightening and rippling beneath her hand.

“Descriptive words,” she cued, retracting her fingers and waiting for his reaction.

“Burning,” Austin replied, his nerves buzzing at the warmth spreading along his skin.

Hot, yet not hot enough to be painful. Instead, it sent a wash of heat up his arm, clear through his entire body. He felt a bead of sweat slide from his temple, the moisture winding a path down the side of his face.

He’d perspired before. Hell, he spent his days outdoors in the blazing Texas heat, but he’d never really
felt
the sweat. The way it tickled along its path and wound down his jaw. His skin came alive at the sensation, along with the rest of his body. His feet flattened on the floor, his legs braced to keep himself from flipping her over and pressing her back into the sofa.

Just give it to her and get it over with.

That’s what he fully intended to do before all was said and done.

He’d come to the conclusion early that morning, after a sleepless night spent with his books, that the only way to get back to the business of finding a potential wife was to act on his attraction to Madeline. He was spending entirely too much time and effort thinking about having sex with her. Better to do it, burn off his damned lust, and get it over with.

But while she stirred his body in a fierce way, she stirred his curiosity even more. He couldn’t erase the image of her last night when she’d met him at the door in her bunny slippers. Nor could he forget the way she’d trembled and blushed when he’d stared at her a little too long. And he certainly couldn’t forget the look of surprise in her eyes when he’d made her come apart with his mouth. As if he’d been the first to taste her and drive her over the edge.

He’d taken the initiative last night when she’d worked him up. Not tonight. Tonight he wanted to see just how far she would go to get him into bed. He wanted to see firsthand if she had, indeed, turned into a bona fide bad girl. Or if there was still a little of the shy, naive, wholesome Maddie hidden deep inside.

“What did you say?” she asked, her voice as soft and stirring as her scent.

“Burning.” He clenched his teeth against the sensation. “Searing heat. Pure torture. Because it feels so good.”

“Perfect.”

Another sensation soon replaced the heat on the inside of his upper arm as he felt her soft touch again.

“Here’s the next sample.” Warm fingers folded the sleeve of his T-shirt up before touching another dollop to his exposed bicep. She rubbed and smoothed, working her palm against his skin, easing higher beneath the edge of his rolled sleeve and around to the sensitive underside of his arm. A tickling sensation drifted over his skin, but it didn’t make him smile. Instead, he frowned, doing his best to ignore the stirring sensation.

“Descriptive words.”

“It feels like you’re tickling me.”

“Then why aren’t you smiling.”

“Tickling as in teasing.
Stirring.
”

He could feel her smile. “That’s the response I was hoping for.”

He felt the sofa shift next to him as she stood and came to sit on his opposite side. Soft hair trailed over his arm as she turned and worked at his opposite sleeve, rolling the edge up until she’d exposed his bicep.

The lotion and the rubbing soon followed, but this time he felt a coolness. Almost like the cream he rubbed into his thigh muscles after a particularly tough day working his ranch. But this sensation didn’t soothe. It stirred him all the more and he barely managed a few descriptive words.

He was too worked up to talk.

He managed a colorful phrase, however, when the couch shifted again and she moved in front of him. He felt her hands on the insides of his knees. She urged his thighs apart and he had the sneaking suspicion that she’d settled on her knees between them.

“What are you doing?”

“The final sample.”

He didn’t feel a dollop this time. Instead, he felt her hands on top of his, her palms slick and smooth as she slid them up his arms. Her touch pushed beneath the edges of his T-shirt to his shoulders before easing them back down.

“How does it feel?”

“Wet.” He swallowed. “Warm.”

“It is,” and as she said the words, he had the distinct feeling she was referring to more than just her hands.

Her touch fell away for a few heart-pounding moments before she pushed up the hem of his T-shirt and touched his bare middle. He sucked in a breath as the slick, wet feel of her touch moved under his shirt, slicking over his abdomen and higher until her palms grazed his nipples. She rubbed the tips before trailing her fingers across his chest. Side to side, then up and down, then back to his nipples.

“Still wet and warm?”

“And hot.”

“There are no heat properties in this sample.”

“Not the sample. Me.” He reached up and pulled the blindfold off to find his suspicions confirmed.

She was kneeling in front of him, her hands still on his chest, one covering his left nipple while the other rested against his pounding heart.

“Is this part of the sampling test?” he asked.

She eyed him, her eyes dark and glittering. “Yes—” she licked her lips “—and I really need a taste.” She leaned forward and her lips closed over his right nipple. Her teeth caught him there, her tongue flicking out to ply the nub.

“Holy shit,” he ground out, his gaze fixed on her head as she suckled him. Her body wedged closer, pressing against his massive hard-on and he had the sudden image of her trailing her lips lower, unzipping his pants and taking him into her mouth.

Her moist red lips pressed against his skin and he threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her close. Where her hands had felt good, her mouth felt even better, and he couldn’t help himself. He’d reached his limit. He was this close to hauling her into his lap, pressing her back against the sofa and peeling her shirt away to sample her ripe nipples the way she was sampling his. He wanted to strip off her clothes and slide into her fast and furious, and end the damned attraction that had him so distracted.

And he would.

Before the evening was over he would do everything he’d been wanting to since the moment he’d seen her at Skeeter’s. But first, he had to see if she was all talk and no action, or if she truly had changed.

She leaned back on her knees and stared up at him, her lips slick and parted, her eyes hungry.

“Tonight is a touch test, not a taste test,” he reminded her.

“For the product. We’re done with that test. This is my own private sampling of you.”

His erection throbbed as her gaze dropped to his lap.

“I really want to see you.” Her slim fingers reached out and she unfastened the button on his jeans. “And touch you.” Her knuckles grazed him as she worked the zipper over his hard length. His entire body trembled in anticipation. He tilted up just enough to let her pull his jeans and underwear down to his hips.

His penis jutted forward from the dark patch of hair that curled around the base. The veins bulged, the skin slick and tight. Pearly liquid beaded on the ripe purple head.

“And taste you.” Before he could draw a deep breath, she leaned forward, flicked her tongue out and lapped up the drop of liquid.

Heat pulsed along his nerve endings, like a flame being passed over his skin. She licked him from root to tip once, twice, making him burn hotter, before drawing him into her mouth.

He closed his eyes as a groan rumbled from deep in his throat. Pleasure drenched his body and he braced himself against coming right then and there. He wanted this too much to have it over with so quickly. He wanted to feel her, to watch her, and then he wanted to thrust into her soft ripe body and plunge over the edge with her.

He forced his eyes open. Blond hair trailed over his lap and he reached down, pushing the soft strands back from her face so that he could see her red lips slide over his hard length. She suckled him, swirling her tongue around and around, pushing him closer to the brink until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

He cupped her face and set her away from him, her confused gaze colliding with his.

“Am I doing it wrong?”

“No, darling. You’re doing it right. Too right. I don’t want it like this. I want to be inside you.”

A smile curved her full, slick lips and she stood. She stripped off her clothes at the speed of light. He barely had time to feast his eyes on her full breasts tipped with ripe, rosy nipples before she leaned down and touched her lips to his.