Ultimate Warriors (29 page)

     
He
turned her, exerting a gentle pressure with his hand at the small of her back.

     
"Wait,"
she said. "First I want to know what else you’ve got in that bag."

     
He gave
a low laugh. A rather sexy laugh, she thought.
Funny how she
hadn’t noticed that about him before.
She heard the scritch of a zipper.
"You mean in here?"

     
"Yes."

     
"Just
a few things I picked up on Spring Street."

     
"Spring
Street?" she said. "But that’s--"

     
"--a
very, let’s say, ‘colorful’ part of town." He laughed again. The sound
made her want to lean back and melt into him. "I went shopping in a little
store called Lavish Love."

     
She
giggled. "It sounds like a porno flick."

     
"I
think they shoot those in the back," Clark said. "In the front ...
well, you’ll just have to wait and see. I mean feel," he corrected
himself.

     
He
kissed her neck, just below the ear. She hadn’t expected it, and the suddenness
doubled the sweetness of the caress. He nipped his way up to her ear and
swirled his tongue around the shell.

     
"Oh,
God," she whispered. "That feels incredible."

     
"It’s
only the start," Clark whispered. He pushed her gently forward. "Now
will you start walking?"

     
She
nodded. He guided her to her apartment, pausing to extract the keys from her
backpack. Then the door clicked shut behind them. His laptop case thudded to
the floor.

     
Clark’s
arm dipped behind her knees. She clutched his shoulders as her feet left the
ground. He carried her through black space. It was a strange feeling.
Like being adrift on an endless sea.
She heard him kick a
door open.

     
Her bedroom.
She tried to remember if she’d left the bed
unmade. No. When she landed on the bed, it was on top of the comforter. It
puffed around her like a cloud, with a little whoosh as it settled.

     
Clark
came down on top of her, the weight of his lower body pressing her into the
mattress, his upper body supported on rigid arms. She ran her hands up his
arms, along his shoulder, across his chest.
Funny.
In
darkness he seemed bigger, more muscular than she had thought.
And so much more solid.

     
He
smelled nice.
A hint of aftershave overlying a scent of plain
soap.
She could hear his breathing--fast intakes of breath. She spread
her palm over his heart. It was beating almost as fast as hers.

     
He
kissed her. His lips were firm, mobile. They tasted of mint. They coaxed hers
apart, and she sighed, letting him in. Who’d have thought that a geek would
know how to kiss so well? It seemed Clark was full of surprises.

     
His
tongue plunged and receded. She clung to him, enjoying the sensation. It ended
too soon, but she didn’t have time to miss it. Her attention snapped to his
fingers, which were undoing the buttons on her blouse.

     
Sudden
fear stabbed her. She couldn’t see him, but he didn’t have the same handicap.
Would he like what he saw when he undressed her? How would she know what he
thought if she couldn’t look into his eyes?

     
Her hand
rose to stop him, but her blouse was already undone. His fingers stroked along
the edges of her bra, then found the front closure.

     
"Clark,
I--"

     
"Shh..."
he said. "Don’t worry. Everything’s fine."

     
"I
don’t know. I’m not sure I want you looking at me."

     
His
hands paused.
"Why not?"

     
"Because ... I’m not much to look at.
No curves."

     
He
chuckled. "Oh, I don’t know about that." Her bra fell open and his
palms cupped her breasts. "Looks to me like your curves are just fine.
Perfect, in fact."

     
She felt
his breath on her skin, then his mouth closed, hot and intense, on her nipple.
She moaned, arching her back. Her fingers threaded into his thick hair, holding
his head to her breast. He nipped and suckled, then licked a wet line to the
other side and started all over again. Each tug of his lips and teeth shot a
line of erotic fire straight to her groin. She moaned and wriggled, trying to
ease the pressure building there.

     
After a
few minutes, he eased away. "I’m going to undress you the rest of the way
now." His voice trembled. "Is that all right?"

     
Blossom’s
heart pounded into her throat. "Yes."

     
He eased
her arms out of her blouse and bra, and then they were gone. He unsnapped her
jeans and drew the zipper down, link by link. His hands were unsteady.
Shaking.
Cool air wafted over her as he moved to the end of
the bed to slip off her shoes and socks. Then her jeans slid over her hips and
down her legs.

     
Had her
panties gone with them? No. He rose over her, easing his fingers around the
elastic at her hips and thighs, brushing his thumbs over the swollen mound
beneath. She groaned a little, pushing upward into his hand. He slipped his
hands around her hips and cradled her buttocks in his hands. He drew her
panties down her legs, inch by excruciating inch.

     
He moved
away from the bed, leaving her naked, blind, and vulnerable.

     
"What
about your clothes?" she asked. "I want them off, too."

     
"Soon,"
he told her. His voice didn’t seem too steady, and that made her feel a little
bit better. She heard his footsteps retreat from the room.

     
She
shifted, trying to get comfortable on the bed, turning her head so as to better
catch the sounds coming from the living room. She heard the scruff of Velcro
separating.

     
The
laptop case again. She listened more carefully. She heard a tiny cracking
sound, then a click, a snap, and another click.

     
A gentle
whirring told her he’d started a CD spinning in her player. A moment later,
strains of lush music enveloped her. In the background, an ocean broke on an
invisible shoreline. She heard a birdcall, then the rush of the wind. The surf
pounded again, hard and sure. Blossom’s body responded. Her arousal coiled a
little tighter and she shifted, unsettled.

     
"Do
you like it?" Clark whispered.

     
"Yes."
She held out her arms in the direction of his voice. "Come here and I’ll
show you how much."

     
"In
a minute," he replied. He moved around the bed again. She heard the laptop
zipper.
Another purchase from Lavish Love?

     
She
heard a clink, then the strike of a match. The faint smell of sulfur drifted
past, then a richer, spicier scent.

     
"Cinnamon,"
she whispered. "I love cinnamon. How did you know?"

     
"I
didn’t," said Clark. "I got it because it reminded me of your
hair."

     
She
smiled at that.

     
"What
else do you have in that bag?"

     
More Velcro.
Blossom ran her hands down her body, excitement
rising.

     
The
Velcro stopped. "Do that again," Clark said.

     
"What?"

     
"That thing with your hands."

     
"You
mean this?" She let her palms drift down her torso, slower this time. She
brushed the sides of her breasts, her stomach, her hips, then threaded her
fingers through the curls at the apex of her thighs.

     
"Yeah,"
Clark breathed. "That."

     
"You
like it?"

     
"Oh, yeah."

     
She did
it again, starting from the top, this time lingering long enough to circle her
nipples and stroke between her legs.

     
Clark
groaned. She chuckled, enjoying his distress.

     
"You
like tormenting me, don’t you?" he said.

     
She
smiled. "It’s fun. I only wish I could see you suffering."

     
"It’s
not a pretty sight," he said with a soft laugh. He shifted off the bed,
and again she heard the laptop zipper. "Here’s something that will
distract you." He returned to the bed. The mattress dipped a little,
rolling her toward him.

     
"Taste
this." He brushed something cool and firm against her lips.

     
She
opened her mouth. He dipped a rounded object inside. She skimmed it with the
tip of her tongue.
Ummm...
Something
chocolate.
Delightful.

     
"Suck
on it." His voice was husky.
Low.

     
She
obeyed, pursing her lips and sucking. An explosion of flavor burst into her
mouth.
A cool, ripe strawberry.
Covered
with a layer of thick, dark chocolate.

     
Heaven.

     
She ate
it all, licking every bit from his fingers, and even sucking them a little
afterwards. Clark groaned again, and leaned forward to kiss her.

     
"Please
don’t tell me that strawberry came from a porn shop," she said when she
came up for air.

     
He
snorted.
"God, no.
I got them at the gourmet
grocer on Main Street." He reached across the bed, his arm brushing her
legs as he retrieved something she could only guess at. "But I did get
this at Lavish Love."

     
A soft
tantalizing touch brushed her forehead, her cheeks,
her
lips. "What is it?"

     
"You
tell me." He swept the unseen instrument down her arms, across her
breasts, and over her stomach.

     
"A feather?"

     
"A
long one," he said, stroking the crease at the top of one leg,
then
moving around to stroke the inside of her thighs. He
lingered there, teasing. "Open your legs," he breathed.

     
She
obeyed.

     
"Wider."

     
She did
that too, quivering as the feather touched her again. Her inner muscles
contracted, sending a faint glimpse of bliss shooting through her body. Clark
ran the tip of the feather over her swollen folds,
then
played it over her tight nub. The sensation was too fleeting, too light. She
groaned, as the coil in her belly tightened.

     
The
feather vanished. Her hips moved, wanting it back. The ocean music from the CD
player surged and receded. Then the laptop’s Velcro parted again, and her body
went on high alert. What was coming next?

     
She
heard Clark moving around--undressing, she thought. After a moment, he settled
back onto the bed, down near the end. His warm hands lifted her feet and
cradled them in his lap.
His bare lap.

     
Blossom
caught her breath. He was naked, in her bed. She wanted very much to see him.
So what if he didn’t have the body of a superhero? He had the heart of one. And
he wanted her. She was beginning to discover what a turn on that was.

     
He began
massaging her foot. He wore some kind of glove on one hand. It was slightly
scratchy, but not unpleasantly so. Like a loofah sponge. "What are you
wearing?"

     
He
laughed. "I think it’s called a bath glove. It’s purple."

     
"Really?"
She tried to imagine Clark, sitting on
the edge of her bed, wearing a purple glove.
And nothing
else.

     
Her mind
boggled.

     
He
worked his way up her legs, his gloved hand leaving a tingling path in its
wake, his bare hand soothing over the same path almost immediately. He avoided
her breasts, and the slick, sensitive folds between her legs, moving close,
teasing,
then
retreating without satisfying. The ocean
music surged and ebbed in the background, a floating accompaniment to his
attentions.