30DaystoSyn (26 page)

She was panting, pushing her ass against
the steel of his cock. She let her head fall back to be braced upon his
shoulder. His nibbles were driving her mad but not as deliciously so as the
stroking that had increased in speed.

“Come for me,” he whispered.

She wanted to.

By the gods, she wanted to! The need was
building, racing up from her tailbone to her womb. Her lower belly was
clenching. Her juices were oozing from her cunt.

“Come for me,” he commanded again and this
time he drew his fingers up to her clit—catching it between his fingers and his
thumb.

“Kiwi!” she cried out.

He was working the little button. Lightly
twisting it. She was spiraling completely out of control and had he not been
holding her up, she would have collapsed.

The orgasm hit so fiercely, so strongly she
screamed. She tried to wiggle out of his arm but he kept tight hold of her. She
shoved at his arm, tried to push it away, to get her hands to her lower body to
make him let go of her clit. The orgasm was going on and on and the sensitive
little nubbin was its very own entity. It was screaming to be released too.

“
Please, stop
!” she begged and felt
his palm cup her—the warmth of his flesh cradling her made her shiver. The very
tip of one of his fingers slid into her entrance and she felt her knees give
way.

“That’s what my baby needed,” he said.

Night Nineteen

Since she hadn’t gone to visit Drew the day
before because of all the unfolding drama, she had gone today and was just
walking in when the phone rang. She rushed to answer it.

“Hello?” she asked, smiling when she heard
his voice.

“Don’t eat. Have Jono stop and get us a
pizza. I bought a twelve-pack of stubbies,” he said. “He’ll be there an hour
earlier for you tonight.”

“What’s a stubby?”

“Beer,” he said. “Oh, and wear a dress this
time. One you won’t mind me ripping off you.”

He hung up and she stood there with the
receiver to her ear.

“Ripping off you,” she repeated and
shivered. That sounded like the legs on the timetable were getting a bit
wobbly.

She grinned.

* * * * *

Instead of taking her to the Room, Jonny
had taken her to the Tucker Inn. He arrived in a beat-up piece-of-shit car he
called a bomb. He had explained—in detail—how he had successfully eluded the
paparazzi and exchanged the black BMW for the clunker.

“Can’t go to the Room no more,” he told
her. “The plod on Synnie’s case found out about it and if the piggies know, the
reporters will find out too.”

Jonny told her his friend was worried the
reporters would get her name, hound her as they were doing him. The precautions
he and Jonny and Jake were taking sounded almost spy-like in the intricacies.

Now, sitting in the same room of the Tucker
Inn where they’d gone two nights earlier, a cardboard pizza box lay between
them on the bed. The Kiwi had on the same pair of black boxer shorts she’d
given him a few days past and she had on the dress he had asked her to wear.
She sat with her legs stretched out in front of her. His were tucked under him
tailor fashion.

He had hairy legs and big thighs to go
along with a very nice ass she ached to sink her teeth into. The wiry swirls of
hair on his legs fascinated her. She was staring at his handsome feet when he
finally broke the silence between them.

“They gave me back my passport today,” he
told her. He licked the side of his hand where a greasy glob of tomato sauce
was clinging. “I didn’t know they’d taken it. They said they didn’t trust me
not to leave the country,” he said. “Hell, they said I couldn’t even leave the
fucking state!”

“So what changed?” she asked, plucking a
mushroom from the now-empty pizza box.

“The piggies down home phoned in their
report. Olivia did have two girls working out of the guest rooms of the condo.
I don’t know why that surprised me. I guess she didn’t think to contact them to
get their stories the same as hers.” He shrugged. “Or maybe she was just too
pissed off at me to consider it. Either way, the girls said she’d told them
often how furious I’d be if I knew what she was doing at the condo, how she was
using it. Since there is no evidence against me, the cops here are letting it
go, chalking it up to the insanity that is my mother.”

“Did they arrest the girls?”

“Nah. Prostitution isn’t illegal in New
Zealand.”

“Huh. So what now?”

“Now she goes back to running a house of
prostitution,” he said. “Or…” He took a bite of the pizza slice curled in his
hand. “She can stay here and ply her trade. Either way, I’ve washed my hands of
her. I told her so this morning. She either gets herself a visa on her own or
jacks her ass back to New Zealand.”

She whistled. “How’d she take it?”

“As expected. She threw a wobbly and tried
to eviscerate me with her temper but I walked out smiling while she was calling
me every filthy name she knew. She’d have my guts for garters if she could get
to me.”

“Where is she now?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. I went by
the Hilton and told them I would no longer be responsible for any charges she
incurs past tomorrow. Let her fend for herself for a change. She made me do it
when I was too young to know how.” He crammed the remaining pizza in his hand
into his mouth and leaned back against the headboard.

“She’s still your mom,” she said. “Don’t
burn bridges you can’t repair, Kiwi.”

“I’m finished with her, Melina,” he said in
a voice that told her he was also finished talking about her. He wiped his
mouth on a wad of the rolled-up toilet paper they were using for napkins, took
the pizza box, closed the lid then sailed it across the room.

“Honestly, Kiwi,” she said with
exasperation. “Couldn’t you just have tossed it on the other bed?”

“More fun watching it fly,” he said with a
wink. He rubbed his hands together. “Now, down to business.”

“I hope you brought me a change of clothing,”
she said as she watched his gaze dip to her breasts.

“Jeans and a pullover,” he said. “Fetched
them from your closet myself.”

“That reminds me. I want the key you are
using to let yourself in,” she told him.

“Ain’t giving it to you,” he said. He leaned
over to tug the skirt of her dress up her leg. “Let’s see what color knickers
you got on tonight.”

“Flesh colored,” she said.

His hand stilled. “As in the color of flesh
or as in you aren’t wearing knickers at all?”

“I guess you’ll find out, now, won’t you?”
she asked.

He slid the skirt up to her waist then
smiled. “Well, well, well,” he said. “Now this is better than red knickers.”

She was bare to him and neatly trimmed. He
wanted to bury his nose in the soft rectangle of wiry curls and tongue her clit
until she came hard for him. Instead, he just stared at the juncture of her
legs.

“Did you use wax?” he asked for he saw no
stubble at the crease of her legs. When she didn’t answer, he looked up to see
she was blushing.

“Rach did it for me Sunday,” she said. She
shifted her eyes from his. “I was too embarrassed to go to a salon and don’t
worry. She knows I’m seeing someone but she doesn’t know who or why.”

“You did this for me?”

She nodded.

“You don’t have to, baby,” he said. “I like
a woman natural.”

“And hanging out of her bikini bottom?”

He winced. “Ah, no.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” she said and he knew
she was lying.

“You don’t need to do it for me,” he
repeated. “Do it because you want to. Not because you think I expect it of you.
I don’t.”

“Good ‘cause it hurt like hell,” she told
him.

“May I?” he asked, extending his hand
toward her groin.

She blinked and he could tell his question
surprised her. He hadn’t asked her permission the evening before.

“Of course,” she said.

She wanted him to touch her, he thought,
and he gently laid his hand over the closely cropped patch. Her hair was so
soft beneath his palm. He could not resist rubbing it.

“Are you wearing a bra?” he asked without
looking up at her. His full attention was on her mons.

“No.”

He moved down in the bed—sliding his hand
along her thigh, down her calf. Gently, he gripped her ankles with both hands
and spread her legs apart. He glanced up to see her bottom lip tucked between
her teeth but she was watching him, not looking away.

Positioning himself between her legs, he
put his hands to either side of her upper arms and dropped his body to
hers—supporting his weight on his hands to keep from crushing her. He stared
down into her face.

“Touch me,” he said.

She didn’t hesitate. She was eager to put her
hand on him and when she did, he sucked in a slow, calming breath.

“Rub him.” He could feel the instant
thickening of his shaft as her hand pressed against him. “Hard,” he amended.
“Rub him hard.”

She obliged his request. Her eyes were
darkening as she worked the bulge in his shorts. Her tongue flicked along her
upper lip and he dug his fingernails into the bedspread.

So rough and hoarse was it, he barely
recognized his own voice as he ordered her to slide her hand inside the opening
of the shorts.

“Wrap your fingers around him.”

Braced on his hands and knees, paused above
her like a shadow, he watched her face intently as she slipped her hand into
his shorts and circled him in her fist.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned.

Her hand was so warm. So soft but
surprisingly strong as she began a slow glide from the base of him to the tip.
He shivered.

“Where the hell did you learn that?” he
asked, then violently shook his head. “Never mind. Rachel.”

“She had me practice on a cucumber.” She
licked her lip again, her eyes mischievous. “You’ll especially like what she
taught me to do with a banana.”

He groaned again and felt pure lust shift
through him like a moray eel in silt.

Her hand circled over the tip of his cock
and he could stand no more. He’d only wanted to feel her touch surrounding him,
not come in her hand.

“Baby, stop,” he said. When she didn’t, he
pushed away from her. “Melina, stop. Take you hand out of there.”

Her lush lips formed a provocative pout but
she did as he commanded. She ran her hands behind him to cup his ass. “I like
your ass,” she said. “It’s big and mounded just right.” She squeezed him.

“Woman, you…” He shoved himself up, grabbed
the front of her dress and ripped it from neckline to hem, laying her
completely bare. He watched her eyes flare for he knew the look on his face had
to be demonic.

Her hands had dropped away from him when he
pushed to his knees. They were now lying on his thighs, her fingers curled over
the sides.

“Be gentle, Kiwi,” she asked quietly.

He knew she thought he was about to end her
girlhood but that wasn’t on his timetable yet. There were ten more days to go.
There were things she needed to learn before he took that precious maidenhead
from her.

“I want you to bend your legs for me,” he
instructed.

She took a hitching breath and crooked her
knees.

“Now spread your legs as wide as you
comfortably can.”

His gaze lowered from her beautiful face to
the soft petals of her vagina as she let her thighs shift apart.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Yes, Kiwi.”

He leaned back on his haunches then thrust
his hands slowly beneath her rump. He lifted her ass from the bed.

“Kiwi?” she questioned, her brow furrowed.

“Trust me,” he said.

Her body went rigid of its own accord as he
bent forward. The stubble on his cheeks grazed her inner thighs as he lowered
his mouth to her crotch. She could feel the heat of his breath on her most
intimate part a second before the long, infinitely slow lick swept up to her
clit. He stabbed at her clit with his tongue.

“
Kiwi
!” she yelped.

She lifted her head to stare down at him
with shock. He was looking at her over the line of her nether hair and that
look was hotter than the fires of hell.

And just as consuming.

For someone who had never done this with a
woman before, he was damn good at it!

He was slowly, lingeringly flicking his
tongue along her cleft, up and down the creases of her thigh, swirling it
around her clit. His fingers were holding her ass firmly and she was writhing
beneath him, unable—and more than unwilling—to allow his erotic feasting to end.
She wanted to clamp her thighs to his head but his broad shoulders were
effectively holding her legs apart. He shifted so her legs were pushed upward
and instinct made her drape them over his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he whispered against her.

She dug her heels into his back and arched
her hips up in offering to the sweet pleasure of his expert mouth. The flicks
of his tongue were driving her mad and she wanted him to thrust it into her.

He took his hands from her ass, shot his
legs out behind him until he was lying on his stomach between her legs. He put
his fingers on the outer lips of her cunt and spread them, dragging the flat of
his tongue along her folds as though she were an ice cream cone.

“You taste so good,” he told her.

Then he did something that threw her into a
maelstrom of aching, throbbing need. He pulled back her clitoral hood lightly
then caught her clit between his teeth.

“Oh my God!” she cried out and slapped her
hands to his head.

He made that humming noise against her and
she bucked. Had he not released her quickly, she might well have done some
damage to herself or knocked out his front teeth.

“Lie still!” he ordered, his voice tight
and commanding. He jerked his head from her hands, would not allow her to grab
it again. “I said lie still!”

She stopped moving instantly, put her hands
down. The tone of voice he’d used had gotten her full notice.

“Relax your thighs, woman,” he ordered.
“Now!”

It took some doing but she let her body
loosen up. She kept watching him until she saw the disciplinary scowl leave his
handsome face. Dipping his head, he gave her one last warning look through his
lashes then lowered his mouth to her body once again.

This time he wasted no time. His licks were
no longer slow. They were stabbing, fluttering, long sweeps punctuated with a
strong suction of his lips to her clit. He lapped at her. He swirled his tongue
along her inner folds. He thrust his tongue against her opening—delved inside
once or twice—then brushed it lightly across her anal opening.

And the upshot of that particular wicked
scenario was an orgasm that shot over her so suddenly, so fiercely she opened
her mouth to scream but no sound emerged. The pleasure seemed to go on forever
and when it stopped, she was gasping for breath, whimpering.

He leaned over her—put his forehead to
hers—and with that demonic grin in place once more said, “Tomorrow night, you
can return the favor.”