Coming Apart at the Seams (31 page)

“You look beautiful,” he said slowly. “I've never seen anyone or anything so beautiful.”

Her eyes widened, and her cheeks turned pink. She licked her lips, leaving them shiny and wet, and blood rushed to his cock. Moving closer, he settled his hand on her waist, clenching his fingers in the smooth, filmy material of her dress.

“You look really handsome,” she replied softly, smoothing the lapel of his tux with her fingers. “The most handsome man in the room.”

Her words sent a tingle through him. He had always viewed his good looks as a consolation prize for what he really wanted—the ability to speak easily and clearly. But after hearing the admiration in Teagan's voice, he suddenly felt blessed by Mother Nature.

Cupping his hand around the back of her head, he slowly leaned down. He gave her plenty of time to pull away before placing his mouth on hers and gently stroking the seam of her lips with his tongue. Her lips fell open, giving him a taste of
lemons and sugar, and he knew she had eaten the same cake he had enjoyed.

The chatter of conversation, the mellow tones of the string instruments, the ding of expensive crystal . . . it all faded away as she stroked her tongue against his. She slid her hands under his jacket to grip his waist and pressed against him until her breasts flattened over his chest and her stomach cradled his cock.

Teagan aggressively sucked his tongue into her mouth, and a sharp zing traveled down his spine to the tip of his erection. He gasped as it pulsed against his boxer briefs and jerked his mouth away from her to pull in a lungful of air.

He hastily stepped back to put some space between them, shocked that a simple kiss had brought him so close to disaster. He wasn't an etiquette expert, but he was pretty sure it was bad manners to come in his pants during his best friend's wedding and in full sight of 450 people.

Teagan glanced down, and he followed her gaze. He was hugely erect, and his tuxedo trousers did nothing to hide it. In fact, they seemed to emphasize his hard-on.

She raised her eyes to his, pressing her lips together, but he saw the hint of a smile on her mouth. A second later, her husky giggle reached his ears.

He scowled. “Not funny,” he grated.

“You're right,” she agreed solemnly before snickering.

Shrugging off his jacket, he draped it over his arm to hide the monster in his pants. When he brought his attention back to Teagan, bittersweet emotion washed over him. She was smiling at him, her dark blue eyes sparkling with happiness like they used to.

He missed that Teagan. The one who had chattered and laughed and teased. The one who had understood him like no one else.

I miss the Teagan who loved me.

The strum of a guitar drew their attention, and the band's lead singer announced that the bride and groom were ready to leave. Nick wove the fingers of his free hand through Teagan's and pulled her onto the patio, where they would give Quinn and Amelia a proper send-off.

The rest of the wedding guests joined them, and when the
wedding coordinators passed around baskets filled with rose petals, he and Teagan each grabbed a handful. ZZ Top's “Gimme All Your Lovin'” blared through the speakers on the patio, and Quinn and Amelia ran through the crowd hand in hand.

Nick tossed the rose petals with the other guests, showering the newlyweds. Once they were out of sight, he turned to Teagan, but she was gone. He blew out his breath in frustration. It was always one step forward and two steps back with her, and he wondered if he'd ever get ahead.

The first notes of David Grey's “This Year's Love” floated from the reception hall, and he slowly made his way back inside. Couples packed the dance floor, all of them swaying to the romantic music. Nick scanned the crowd for Teagan but couldn't find her.

Draping his jacket over the back of a nearby chair, he rubbed the back of his neck, squeezing the tight muscles with his fingers. He needed a drink.

“I love this song.”

Teagan's voice came from behind him, and he dropped his hand before slowly turning to face her. She stood a couple of feet away, her hands clasped loosely in front of her.

“Would you dance with me?” she asked softly.

His heart thudded heavily, and he wondered if he had heard her correctly. Just in case his hearing worked fine, he held out his hand. He half expected her to walk away, but she slid her hand into his.

He followed her to the dance floor, and once they were there, she stepped into his arms. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her close, and she placed her hand on his shoulder before resting her head against his chest.

Somehow he managed to move his feet, and she followed his lead. The action jogged a long-forgotten memory of dancing with her at Cal's college graduation party. He had cut in on one of Cal's friends after watching the guy's hands wander to Teagan's ass one too many times.

He had been infuriated, but she had laughed it off. She had assured him that Cal's friend wasn't the first guy who had grabbed her butt, and
hopefully
he wouldn't be the last, either. He had laughed at her quip, but his mind had been filled with thoughts of palming her sweet cheeks.

Had he wanted Teagan even then? He truly didn't know. But he had no doubt he wanted her now.

Tightening his arm, he pressed her closer and closed his eyes to savor the feel of her curves against him. She sighed softly, the sound making the fine hair on his body stand on end. When her stomach brushed against his erect cock, he shuddered.

He knew he couldn't take much more of this. He couldn't take much more of wanting her and never having her. He needed her to fill all the empty places inside him.

“T,” he rasped.

Looking up, she met his gaze. He swallowed deeply and pressed his tongue against his teeth, trying to get his mouth to work.

“Give me another chance. Come back to my room.”

Although it was rare for the Bay Area to get any rain in April, or so Nick had been told, a random storm had kicked up in the Pacific Ocean. It had poured every single day for the past week, forcing the San Francisco Giants to play in crappy weather for their three-game home stand.

He took a swallow of his Fat Tire as he watched the Giants' young pitcher strike out the St. Louis Cardinals' best batter. Quinn had invited Nick to watch the game with him and Cal in the Riley O'Brien & Co. suite, but he had declined the invitation. He wasn't in the mood to socialize, not even with his best friends.

Over the past month, he and Teagan had fallen into a routine. She dropped by his house every night after work unless she had plans with Bebe, and they had sex on the floor, against the wall, in the shower. Anywhere and everywhere. She never said no, and she was willing to try anything.

The sex was hotter and more intense than he could ever have imagined, yet he had never been more miserable. He wanted more than sex. He wanted Teagan. He wanted her friendship, her dreams, and her future.

I want her love.

She ignored him at work, refused to stay the night with
him, and even worse, barely talked to him unless they were having sex. When she saw him at her brothers' or parents' homes, she avoided him, and she never accepted his invitations to hang out, whether it was a casual dinner or something planned in advance.

They weren't a couple. They weren't even friends with benefits. They were just two people who fucked each other whenever they had the urge.

His stomach growled, and he put the game on pause using the DVR remote. As he made his way to the kitchen, he took in the progress the contractors had made over the past three months.

He had bought the Italianate-Victorian mansion in Pacific Heights that he and Teagan had toured together. Vanessa had redesigned the entire ground floor so the kitchen looked out onto the backyard. It now had a large breakfast nook and a set of wide French doors leading to an outdoor living space.

Pulling open the door of the new stainless steel fridge, Nick grabbed the lemon icebox pie Letty had made earlier. Before Letty had told him about it, he had never heard of the dessert, which was apparently a favorite in the Deep South. It consisted of a pastry crust filled with a creamy lemon custard-like layer topped with whipped cream.

He thought about just grabbing a fork and eating directly from the pan, but Letty frowned on him doing that, so he placed it on the black granite island and turned to the cream-colored cabinets to grab a plate. Just as he opened the glass-fronted cabinet, he heard the doorbell.

He frowned, wondering if he should just ignore it. Letty had already gone home for the night, and Teagan had told him she had plans for the evening.

The doorbell pealed again, and he closed the cabinet door with a sigh. He walked slowly down the hall, hoping whoever was at his door would go away. When the doorbell pealed yet again, he picked up his speed, and when he saw Teagan's familiar outline through the stained glass, he hurried to unlock the door.

When he opened it, she was shaking out her fire-engine-red umbrella. She looked up with a big smile, and he noticed her glossy lips were the same color as her umbrella.

“Hi,” she said.

He returned her smile, surprised to see her, since she had told him that she and Bebe were going out to dinner. He looked behind her, frowning a little when he saw her silver Porsche parked along the curb.

He had given her a garage door opener weeks ago and told her to park inside the garage, but she never did. He'd also given her a key to his house, but she never used it, either.

He held out his hand for her umbrella, and she passed it over. Opening the door wider, he waved Teagan inside. Her shiny trench coat matched her umbrella, and a pair of strappy black stilettos wrapped around her feet.

He shook his head in exasperation. Her legs looked awesome in those fuck-me heels, but it was too slick outside for her to be wearing shoes like that. She might hurt herself.

Teagan stood slightly to the side, waiting for him to lead the way deeper into the house, and he pushed down a wave of annoyance. She had spent hours here with him, and there was no reason for her to act like a guest. He wanted his home to be her home.

He dropped her umbrella in the aged bronze holder Letty had bought for the foyer before grasping her elbow and ushering her down the hallway and into the kitchen. She smiled when she saw the pie.

“You have such a sweet tooth,” she teased, tucking a long strand of dark hair behind her ear.

Yes, he had a sweet tooth, and
she
was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. Bending down, he dropped a quick kiss on her plump lips.

“No dinner?”

“Bebe had to cancel,” she explained, frowning a little bit. “She's working on a big investor presentation.”

Nodding, he turned toward the cabinets. He heard a rustle of fabric behind him, and he assumed she had removed her trench. He should have taken her coat at the door, and he made a mental note to show more gentlemanly manners in the future.

“Pie?” he asked as he opened the cabinet door and pulled out two aqua-colored plates.

“Actually, I was thinking you could have something else for dessert.”

He looked over his shoulder and almost bobbled the dinnerware when he saw her. She had removed her trench, all right, but the only thing she wore underneath it was a sheer black bra with red ribbon around the edges and a pair of matching panties.

Pulling his eyes from her curvy body, he carefully put the plates back in the cabinet before turning to face her. She smiled slowly, her blue eyes glinting in the bright overhead lighting.

He ran his gaze over her, noting the black underwear made her skin look like freshly whipped cream. Her luscious breasts almost overflowed the bra cups, and he could see the shape of her nipples through the sheer fabric. The panties accentuated her round hips, and the dark hair of her pussy created a shadow between her legs.

Drawing in a deep breath, he tried to get himself under control, but it was too late. Blood rushed through his veins, heading straight for his cock. Her eyes dropped to his crotch, where his erection pressed against his zipper, and her smile widened.

She rounded the island to where he stood and hopped up on it. Her big breasts bounced with the movement, causing saliva to pool in his mouth. She tilted her head, a coquettish expression on her face.

“Oh, you really wanted pie, huh?” she asked with mock sympathy.

She dipped her finger into the whipped cream covering the pie, raising it to her mouth. He swore his eyes crossed as her pink tongue darted out to lick her finger. When she made another foray to the pie, she scooped a much larger blob from the top and held it in front of her.

“What about having your pie and eating me, too?” she suggested as she placed the whipped cream at the top her cleavage.

Holy shit! She's going to kill me.

He placed his hands on her smooth thighs, and she widened her legs so he could step between them. Leaning forward, he opened his mouth over her cleavage and licked the rich whipped cream from her warm skin.

He trailed his tongue along the edge of her bra before unhooking the clasp between her breasts. He pulled the cups away from the plump mounds, and she shrugged it off her shoulders.

Every time he saw her breasts, he marveled at how lush and perfect they were. Her skin was so pale he could see the light tracing of veins under it, yet her nipples were dark and rosy.

Right now, they were hard little buds, and he rolled one between his fingers. She gasped, leaning back slightly to brace her hands against the countertop. The action pushed out her breasts, and he stuck his fingers into the pie and smeared whipped cream and lemon custard over her nipple.

She shivered, and he watched as goose bumps broke out all over her arms and upper chest. He wrapped his mouth around her nipple, swirling his tongue through the sweet dessert to find her hard peak. He sucked strongly, and she slid her fingers through his hair and held him against her.

He bit down gently, and she moaned as she squeezed her thighs against him. The husky sound sent a spark up and down his spine, and he pulled back, closing his eyes to find some much-needed control. It was always a shock how easily she got him going.

“Is your sweet tooth already satisfied? I hope not.”

He opened his eyes to find her lower lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout. Whipped cream and lemon custard covered her finger, and she dabbed them on the front of her panties.

His cock twitched excitedly at the thought of eating her sweet pussy, and he gripped her hips to move her farther back onto the island. Bending forward, he sucked the dessert off the scrap of fabric, and when all the cream and custard were gone, he pulled her panties to the side and slid his tongue inside her wet slit.

As the tanginess of her pussy flooded his mouth and mixed with the sweet and tart flavors of the pie, it felt like his cock doubled in size. Nothing,
nothing
, tasted better than her tender flesh, and he eagerly stroked his tongue over her clit while plunging two fingers inside her. Moaning, she gripped his wrist, and he looked up to meet her eyes.

“Please,” she begged huskily, “I need you inside me.”

He gently pulled her to a sitting position and worked her panties down her legs and over her sexy shoes. Reaching between them, she popped the button on his Rileys and unzipped his fly. She pushed his jeans and underwear down until his cock sprang free, and he sighed in relief.

Palming her ass, he pulled her to the edge of the island. She immediately wrapped her legs around him, and his cock brushed against her slick folds. She was drenched, and he couldn't wait one more moment to feel her around him. He slowly pushed inside her, and she dug her sharp heels into his ass.

“I don't want it slow, Nick,” she said, her eyes a dark, smoky indigo. “I want you to fuck me fast and hard and deep. And even if I beg you to stop, I want you to keep going.”

Her words sent a jolt through his whole body, and even though he tried to hold back, his cock jerked and a stream of semen shot out of him. He grunted from the fiery pleasure, and she tightened her legs around him to pull him deeper.

“
Oh
, I felt that.” She laughed softly. “You must like it when I talk dirty.”

He stared into her eyes, trying to catch his breath. She drove him crazy. She knew it, and she did everything she could to make him lose it.

Leaning into him, she licked the corner of his lips before darting her tongue into his mouth. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, nipping it gently.

“Can you feel how wet I am?” she whispered against his lips. “It's because of you. I want you to fuck me with your big cock.”

He shuddered and closed his mind to everything but the feel of her tight pussy. Clenching his fingers in the cheeks of her ass, he pulled out and plunged into her. He went so deep he bumped against her cervix, and she moaned.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Just like that.”

He thrust into her with deep, fast plunges, and to keep himself from shooting off, he slowly started to count backward from one hundred. She began to whimper when he reached sixty-five. By fifty, she was chanting his name, and she came apart at forty-five, her pussy clamping down on his cock so tightly his vision blurred.

He continued to pound into her, ignoring her pleas that she couldn't take any more. When he couldn't wait any longer, he rubbed her clit between his thumb and forefinger, a move that unfailingly sent her flying toward an orgasm.

She screamed his name, her voice raw and raspy, and the powerful squeezes of her pussy drove him over the edge. He
buried his face in her neck and poured himself into her, trembling with the force of his orgasm.

She rubbed his back as they recovered, and after a few minutes, she pushed against his shoulders. Withdrawing from her snug body, he kept his face averted as he stepped away to fasten his pants. He had a pretty good idea of what would happen next, and he needed to prepare for it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her slide off the island. She grimaced a little bit before laughing lightly.

“We made a
huge
mess, Nick.”

She grabbed her panties and stepped into them before pulling on her bra and fastening it. Skirting around the island, she opened a cabinet under the sink and pulled out a bottle of kitchen cleaner. Moving the pie to another counter, she sprayed the cleaner on the granite and wiped it down with a handful of paper towels before tossing them in the trashcan.

“We should probably stop having sex on the island.” She snickered. “It's fun but unsanitary.”

She made her way to the kitchen table, and he tried not to stare at her ass, but it was nearly impossible. He loved its round shape, the way it flared from her hips.

Scooping her trench from one of the wooden chairs grouped around the table, she shrugged into it. “Thanks,” she said brightly as she cinched the belt of her coat. “That was incredible.” As she started for the hallway, she gave him a small wave. “See you tomorrow.”