Her Fantasy Husband (Things to Do Before You Die) (11 page)

She liked that, loved it in fact, and she allowed him to pry her fingers free, because the same sense of urgency was racing through her.

“Turn around.”

He was ever so bossy, and she nearly balked at the order, then caught a glimpse of the hunger in his eyes and decided this once she might take his lead.

He was so big, and hard, and fierce, nothing soft about him at all, and a shiver of something close to primordial fear ran through her as she turned around.

He flipped open the catch on her bra and slid the straps down. Then his big hands were on her breasts, touching her skin, his rough palms abrading her sensitive nipples. He stepped up closer behind her so she could feel the heat of him, his shaft scalding hot against her skin. One hand cupped her breast; the other slid down over her stomach and slipped beneath the lace of her panties.

A pulse throbbed between her thighs, and she shifted impatiently, waiting for him to touch her where she needed him most. She was so sensitive, so swollen, all she’d require was one touch and she’d come. She pushed her hips against his hand, but perversely he withdrew. Hooking his fingers in the lace at her hips he pushed her panties down, lowering himself to kneel behind her. She stepped out of them as his lips caressed the skin of her ass, and the breath left her in a
whoosh
.

Oh God, he’s kissing my bottom
.

Had he ever done that in her fantasies?

No way. She’d have remembered. His lips were hard, his tongue soft and wet as he traced patterns on her skin. He bit down and she let out a squeak, then wished she’d stayed silent as he rose to his feet. She wanted him back.

He turned her gently, pushed her the last few inches to the bed, and she toppled backward onto the mattress. He came down after her fast, kissing her hard, and his hands were everywhere—on her breasts, her belly, between her thighs. A knee shoved between her legs, and he shifted to kneel between them.

She was vaguely aware of him grabbing a condom, the sound of the foil tearing, the long seconds as he rolled it on. Then he was back. The tip of his cock nudged at her, seeking entrance. He positioned himself with one hand, balancing on the other as he stared down into her face.

“Ready?”

Was she? There was something so carnal in his expression. The softer emotions had been banished, his face was a mask of need, and a thrill ran through her.

She nodded.

He shoved into her hard, filling her, stretching her so she tingled everywhere, her muscles gripping onto him as though to keep him inside her. He pulled out, the drag against her exquisite, then in again, sliding easier this time as her tense muscles relaxed.

As he pumped into her hard and fast, everything faded from her consciousness except the feel of his big body on her, inside her, so different than how she had imagined. So much more. Filling her mind as well as her body.

He reached between them, and his fingers found her clit, and everything tightened until she was a quivering mass of need. He pinched her and she exploded around him, and still he was moving, driving her higher and higher. The pleasure would pause, then he’d touch her again, and she’d explode.

He held her still with his hands on her shoulders as she writhed beneath him, then he came, his head going back, and a groan escaped him. Finally, he pulled free of her with a shudder, dropped down beside her, dragging her with him, so she lay with her back against his chest.

For a minute she felt bereft, and then he nuzzled the spot where her shoulder met her neck, and stroked soft circles on the skin of her back. Her heartbeat slowed and she slept.

Chapter Eleven

Josh had never spent the whole night in bed with a woman.

It had been one of the unwritten rules in his how-not-to-get-too-close code of conduct and one of the things his last girlfriend—who’d dumped him shortly before he’d married Lexi—had complained about the most.

But he’d fallen straight asleep, drugged by the soft sound of Lexi’s breathing and the rhythm of her heart beneath his palm. Anyway, his situation was somewhat changed. After all, what was he supposed to do—get out of this lovely bed with a beautiful warm woman in it and go lie on the floor, just to prove a point?

Maybe he was getting soft.

But he had no reason to panic. Lexi had made it clear she wasn’t looking for a real husband, and when their six months were up, they would say good-bye amicably and go their separate ways. And even if she was looking, it wouldn’t be for someone like him. Someone incapable of giving her what she needed. Who couldn’t even give affection to a goddamned dog without getting twitchy.

No, she’d go for someone nice. Someone like that vet from last night. No one had ever accused Josh of being nice.

Except Evie.

He pushed the thought aside, because thinking about Evie was guaranteed to ruin his mood.

So a first for him. Waking up with a woman.

Except he was alone.

He sat upright and glanced around. From the pale light filtering through the curtains, it was still early.

Where the hell was she?

The pillow beside him was dented, but she was nowhere in sight. The bathroom door was closed, but he didn’t think she was in there. He was developing a Lexi-sense and knew when she was nearby. Besides, the chair he’d pushed under the door handle had been moved.

His body felt good and ready for more. He hoped wherever she was, she would get back here fast.

She’d fantasized about him. For five years. She had his picture on her bedroom wall. Some small part of him was niggling, saying that perhaps he should be worried about that. That whatever she said to the contrary, she would try and hold him. But he shut the little voice down. They’d both been clear and upfront about what they wanted. There was no need to go all worried that she was going to want more than he was willing to give.

So they had five years’ worth of Lexi’s fantasies to get through in six months.

His stomach rumbled. He needed food if he was going to have the stamina to cope with a challenge like that. And maybe a shower and a shave so he’d be ready for anything.

Where was she?

He hoped she hadn’t left for the day. He got out of bed and padded naked to the door, opened it, and peered out. Nothing. The house was silent.

He went back to the bathroom, showered, shaved, wrapped a towel around himself and went back to the bedroom just as Lexi came through the door, a tray in her hands. He crossed to her, and took it from her.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she said not quite looking at him.

Was she shy after what they’d done?

After putting the tray on the bedside table, he went back to her and kissed her long and hard until she went soft against him. “Starving.” He released her and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked cute and sexy, her hair a mass of curls around her face, her mouth swollen from his kisses. She’d pulled on matching shorts and a camisole in pink with little gray hearts. The top hugged her full breasts, her nipples clearly visible, and his dick came to instant life under the towel.

Presumably this was what she normally slept in, but it wasn’t enough to go roaming around in a house full of men. He hated the thought of Harry seeing her like this. Or Tom. Or even the goddamn dogs.

He’d never been possessive. Another of his codes of conduct.

“Should you be wandering around like that?” The question just slipped out.

She cast him a surprised look. “Why?”

“Because I can see your nipples.”

She peered down. “Oh,” she said then gave a shrug. “No one was up yet.” She poured coffee and handed him a cup. “Eat.”

He helped himself to a plate of rolls and cheese, ham, and smoked salmon.

“I just got whatever was in the fridge.” She perched on the chair next to the bed and nibbled a roll.

He was quiet for a minute while he ate and tried not to think about the possessive thing. He devoured three rolls, drank two cups of coffee and finally relaxed back, replete. At least his stomach was replete; the rest of him was definitely feeling needy.

“What are you doing today?” she asked. “Do you need to go in to work?”

He did actually. There were things he should do. But he didn’t want to go to work. He wanted to stay right here. “Let’s
not
go in to work today.”

She peeked up at him. “What should we do instead?”

“Stay in bed.”

“All day?”

“Yeah. Stock up on provisions. Barricade the door and maybe work through some of those fantasies of yours. You want to describe a few?”

Color flushed across her cheekbones, and she blinked a couple of times then shook her head.

“You should make a list,” he murmured. “Write them down.”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t think so.”

“Baby, if you can’t say them, and you can’t write them, how am I going to know what to do?” He grinned. “And how are you going to actually do them.”

“I’m hoping I’ll be swept along in the moment.”

“Give me a little hint then.” She didn’t answer, just continued to study her toes. “How about, I talk and you somehow indicate what you like the sound of?”

She nodded.

“Obviously missionary is okay. And if I remember rightly, from behind is your favorite.”

She nodded again.

“Anal?”

“Ugh, no.”

“Standing up? You on top? In the shower.”

She nodded again, but seemed to have gone mute. Just talking about it had made his dick rock hard. Hopefully it was affecting her the same way. From the flush on her cheeks and the pulse beating at her throat, he was pretty sure it was.

She cleared her throat. “We mainly did it different places. The beach, my office, the Heath, in the changing rooms at Harrods…”

He shook his head at that one. “Sorry, babe. For another day. Today, I don’t plan on leaving this room. And probably not that bed. Did we ever spend a whole day in bed in your fantasies? Have sex until we’re both too sore and too tired to move?”

“No.”

“You want to?”

She nodded. “I do have to go out for a couple of hours tonight. It’s my night to volunteer down at the rescue center.”

He rubbed his chin with one finger. “You’re a millionaire. You could pay someone.”

“I like doing it.”

“Okay, I’ll come and help you do the chores. That way we can get back here quicker. Now, how should we begin? What shall we do first?”

She licked her lips and heat shot to his groin as an image flashed in his mind, a vision of those soft pink lips wrapped around his dick, and he almost groaned. Would she? If he asked nicely? He didn’t think she had the experience to take the initiative, so it was probably the only way it was going to happen.

Christ, did he want it to happen.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Of course. Anything.”

If you didn’t ask, you didn’t get, and his dick ached just thinking about it. “You ever fantasize about giving blow jobs?”

Her gaze darted to his groin, where it was obvious that he wasn’t disinterested in her answer. She gave a jerky nod.

He blew out his breath.
Thank Christ.

She licked her lips again. Was she doing that on purpose? Did he care?

He put his plate on the tray and pushed himself to his feet, crossed the room, and shoved the chair under the door handle once more. He wanted no fear of interruption to spoil this.

When he turned back, her eyes were huge and fixed on him, filled with need and wanting, and his rock hard cock somehow managed to get even harder.

He held her gaze as he pulled at the knot at his hip and tugged the towel free. Then he tossed it to the floor and glanced around the room. There was a fluffy fake fur rug in front of the fireplace, and he strolled over there, feeling her eyes on him all the way. When he came to a halt, she glanced from his face to the rug, then pushed slowly to her feet and came toward him. A foot away, she sank down to her knees and he nearly came. Sadly, this was not going to last long.

“You might have to tell me what to do,” she murmured, peering up at him through her lashes. He was pretty certain at that point that she had to know what she was doing to him. His cock had taken on a mind of its own and was yearning toward her.

“Take your top off.”

Christ, he wanted to see her tits. They were perfect. She reached down, pulled it over her head and tossed it to the floor. Yes, totally perfect and full, the nipples swollen and dark pink.

Later. He’d focus on those later.

Right now, he needed her mouth on him. And from the look in her eyes, she needed it, too.

“What next?”

“Anything. Do whatever you feel is right. I’ll let you know if it hurts.” When she sat there, head cocked to one side, considering his penis, he groaned. “Please.” He wasn’t above begging.

She shuffled forward a little. In this position, her face was level with his cock, and her soft breath feathered against his sensitive skin. Then she put out her small pink tongue and slowly licked from his balls to the tip.

Oh, God.

She did it again, and he couldn’t take his eyes from the sight of her tongue on his now glistening shaft. But he needed more—this was only increasing the torture. Finally, she took the head in her mouth and sucked. Sensation ripped down his cock, to his balls, up his spine. His hips bucked against her mouth, and she backed away.

“Sorry,” he muttered, but she gave him a sweet smile. “Wrap your hand around him.”

“Him?”

“My cock.”

“Your cock is a him?”

“Of course.”

“Does he have a name?”

“You’re a tease. Wrap your hand around the base and then
he
won’t choke you.”

“Oh.”

She did as he asked, her small hand gripping the base of his cock, and he let himself relax a little. She gave him a quick grin, and then her mouth engulfed him, warm and wet, and he closed his eyes and gave himself over to the pleasure. The world shrank to nothing but the tug of her mouth, the squeeze of her hand. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this needy.

Focus.

Her tongue swiped over him, and his balls tightened. He was so close, and he tried to pull away, but she held him, her fingers tightening their grip as she sucked harder, concentrating on the sensitive tip. His eyes opened to find her gaze focused on him as though he was her whole world, and something twisted deep inside him. His hand came up to fist in her hair, pull her closer, hold her to him as his hips jerked.

She loosened her grip, her fingers stroking his balls then squeezing gently, and it was enough to send him over the edge and he came in her mouth, pleasure shooting through him, his head going back as she continued to suck, and his orgasm went on and on. Finally, he was spent, and he tugged on her silky hair until she released him and looked up.

“Thank you,” he said. “That was…perfect.”

She sat back on her heels, wiped her mouth, and licked her lips. “Really?”

“Really. Now it’s your turn. You’ll have to tell me what turns you on.”

“You turn me on,” she said. “Just you.”

That thing twisted in his gut again, something scary that he didn’t want to investigate too closely. He was doing a lot of that lately—ignoring his gut feelings. Gut feelings he’d relied on in the past to keep him alive.

She got to her feet and went and curled up on the bed facing him. He followed, sat with his back to the wall, and she came closer so she could rest her head on his thigh.

“Did you know a pig’s orgasm lasts thirty minutes?”

“Really? Then I’m glad I’m not a pig. Not sure I could take thirty minutes of that without disintegrating.”

“It was okay, then?”

He stroked her hair. “It was perfection. Give me five minutes to recover, and I’ll return the favor.”

“Good. Because I fantasized about that as well.”

“I hope I live up to your imagination.”

She turned slightly and kissed his thigh. “You’re better than I could have ever imagined. My fantasy husband.”

And there was that niggle of unease again. And once again he ignored it.

…

Lexi was raiding the fridge. It was two in the afternoon, and she was a fair way to sore and exhausted. Josh had returned the favor, and not even in her imagination had she dreamed she could come so hard. And for so long. Then he’d flipped her over and taken her from behind.

She sighed. He was addictive. Which was a problem, because he was also bossy, and a loner, and a total commitment-phobe. She had to keep reminding herself that this was temporary.

Don’t get attached.

It’s what she had to keep telling herself when she worked with the animals at the rescue center. She couldn’t keep them all. And she couldn’t keep Josh.

“You okay?” She jumped as Jean spoke from behind her. “I thought you were at work.”

“No, I’m playing hooky today.”

“With Josh?”

She nodded.

“I’m glad it’s working out. You spend too much time looking after everyone else. You need someone to look after you for a change.”

She opened her mouth to say that she didn’t think Josh was the looking after type—in fact, she knew he wasn’t because he’d told her so—but the sound of tires on the gravel outside distracted her. She glanced out the window to see a black car pulling up. “Oh God, it’s my grandmother.” If anything could break her mood it was a visit from the family from Hell. “Please, Jean, tell her I’m out. Tell her I’ve left the country. Anything.”

Jean patted her arm. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it. You get back to your man.”

She grabbed the food and hurried out and up the stairs. She slammed the door to the bedroom, dropped the food on the bed and hurried to the window, peering out. Her grandmother climbed out of the car, Daniel out of the driver’s seat, and together they walked the few feet to the front door. She couldn’t see them from here, but held her breath. A minute later they headed back to the car, climbed in and drove off, and she gave a sigh of relief.