Idol Urges (11 page)
“Thank you.” She threw her arms around him, and even though he made no move to return the embrace, being close to him eased her mind. “That’s a relief, because I just quit the hotel.”
“You what?” Franco pushed her away. “Wendy, we’re not opening for weeks. I can’t pay you yet.”
“That’s okay. I’ll get by.” The smile that spread across her face eased the tension she had held on to for too long.
He shook his head. “I don’t get it. It’s not like you to do something so reckless.”
She smiled and lowered her lids. “I’m in a reckless mood.” She hooked her finger through his belt loop and pulled him in for a deep kiss.
Her tongue swept inside his mouth. Hesitant, at first, his mouth opened more and returned the kiss.
She broke away and stared into his warm brown eyes. “I need you.” Wendy’s voice was thick.
“Need me for what?” Franco asked, looking at her through slits.
“For everything.” Wendy pulled her shirt over her head.
“Crap, Wendy. My cousins are on the roof.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her to a set of stairs that lead to the second floor.
She raised her head to the sun and allowed the cool breeze to play across her skin. He yanked her inside and slammed the door shut. They stood in a small one room apartment. A queen bed and wardrobe nestled in one corner. A café table with mismatched chairs stood in front of an efficiency kitchen.
“I’m living here now.” Franco said.
“Cozy.” Wendy sashayed toward him.
He backed away. “Really, Wendy. I need to know.”
“I’m here Franco. Who knows what will happen. But I want it to happen with you.”
His eyes stayed narrowed but his arms fell to his sides and he took a step toward her.
“So make it happen.” He stroked her hair and the mischievous grin Wendy longed to see returned to his face
She stripped for him, taking unbearably long seconds to peel her pants down. The ceiling fan stirred the air and refreshed her skin. She reached behind her back to unhook her bra.
“Ahhh. Better,” she said as her breasts were released. She caressed herself, her fingers roamed across her stomach, tantalizing her skin. Cupping each breast, she rubbed her nipples. Franco licked his lips but didn’t touch her.
“I need you to keep me balanced. I need you to satisfy my urges.”
“Is that all you want me for?” His voice was strangled and he shoved his fists in his pockets instead of reaching out for her.
“I need you to be there for me. And I’ll be there for you.” Wendy continued to massage herself even while she exposed her heart.
When she finally kicked off her panties, she took his hand from his pocket and guided a finger inside her.
“You’re wet,” he croaked.
“Mmmm,” she rocked against his hand. Her quivering legs could barely support her. His fingers worked their magic and blazed a mark on her soft folds. No one could ever touch her as Franco did. She pulled away when she got too close to the edge.
Franco used his other hand to cradle her head. He bent her back and kissed her. Their tongues entwined. The musky sweat from his labors mingled with the ocean spray and the woodsy scent that was all Franco.
He ended the kiss and gazed into her eyes. “So you’re mine?”
“And you’re mine.” She pushed him down so he was sprawled on the bed.
She leaned over to peel off his jeans, freeing his cock from inside his pants. He had the most beautiful cock ever—wide and hard. She ran a single finger up and down the side. She moistened her finger with her own juices and repeated the caress.
“Oh, baby, you’re killing me,” he said.
“Not yet, but soon.”
He grabbed her ass and pulled her down so she straddled him. She rubbed her sex against his abs and leaned forward. Her breasts shoved against his face, she dropped her head back as he took one in his mouth and suckled her. Sparks coursed through her body.
“Yes, like that,” she moaned as he nipped tenderly. She shuddered. Her skin became sensitive to his warm touches after the air had cooled it.
Now, she knew how to take what she wanted.
She raised herself and slid up his body, her pussy an inch from his waiting mouth, her knees on either side of his head. Slowly, she lowered herself until just the tip of his tongue could reach her. He skimmed across her engorged sex. With all the control she could summon, Wendy allowed him only the briefest of contact. Agonizing flicks of his tongue against her responsive skin. She lowered herself another inch and the pliant flesh of his mouth engulfed her. He grabbed her ass, and with enthusiastic licks, sent her head spiraling. Each lap of his tongue, each pull of his lips shuddered her core, at the same time brought her closer to a tranquil place she had avoided for so long. Her pulse raced until her veins would burst. So she sat back.
Franco’s lips gleamed with moisture and she kissed him, drinking in her own essence.
She drew her tongue along his neck and down to his chest. Each muscle rippled beneath her mouth, her hair trailing along his skin.
When she reached the base of his cock, she flicked her tongue against it, tasting the salty pearl at its tip.
He moaned in frustration with each swipe of her tongue.
“Please.” His voice a hoarse whisper.
She covered him with her mouth and he released a sigh. Slipping her teeth over his shaft, the ache between her legs grew. She needed him there, to bring her that satisfaction that only Franco could. She was exactly where she needed to be. She raised her head and met Franco’s wild stare.
Franco moaned in agony. “I don’t have a condom.”
“I do.” Wendy would never be without one, as long as Franco was around.
She climbed off the bed to open her bag and, as she did, he gave her bottom a playful slap.
“Ahh,” she said. She didn’t need to tell him what she wanted. He seemed to know.
Returning with the condom, she rolled it over him. Poised above him, with excruciating care, she took him in one inch at a time. With each move she was stretched, her channel sheathed his rock-hard shaft. He filled her so completely. She rose and fell in a fluid motion, consuming him.
He guided her by holding on to her hips. Her pussy conformed to his cock with each crash of their bodies. His breathing grew rapid and sweat beaded on his skin. She leaned over to lick at his neck and take in his fragrance. Her head swam with images of them together—at the beach, on a boat, in the kitchen. This was the first of many encounters.
Each time she came down over him, he seemed to plunge deeper into her, sending both a jolt of fire to her heart and a flutter of a breeze to her mind. She started that plummet over the precipice, her legs quivered, her chest trembled. His hands gripped tighter to her ass as he bucked up to meet her.
Every muscle in her body grew taut and then eased, as the last bit of reality slipped away. Her body vibrated with her orgasm, the most absolute orgasm of her life. Franco called her name as his face reddened. He gritted his teeth as he exploded into her. Each throb of his cock pulsed in her.
Panting, she placed her head against his shoulder.
“I’m not sure this is legal, if I’m your employer.” Franco lifted her off and cradled her in his arms.
“What if you were my boyfriend?” She kissed his ear.
He smiled and caressed her hair. “Listen, I’m going to be busy with getting this restaurant started. I’m not sure how much time I’ll have for you.”
“Now where have I heard that before?” They both laughed. “Just as long as you can come over once in a while and cook for my mom.”
“Deal.”
Wendy’s smile stretched her cheeks. She was at peace. There was just one other thing she had to get off her chest.
“Uh oh, that’s the serious Wendy face. What happened?”
“I need to tell you something, and I’m not sure how you’re going to react.” She looked past his shoulder out the window to the cliffs above the ocean.
“We won’t know until you tell me.”
“My friend Gloria, she belongs to…she brought me to this place. It’s a club, but not a club really. I’ve done things lately. I’ve…”
“Are you talking about that sex club behind the dry cleaners?”
Wendy’s eyes grew to saucers. “You know it?”
“Yeah, I went there a couple of times a few years ago. It was fun for a while.”
“Oh.” Wendy blushed.
“I hope you’ll share with me what you like.” His voice streamed over her cheek.
Wendy was sure she was beet red and looked away.
“If you need to visit there now and then, that’s okay,” he said. “As long as you bring me along.” He ran a finger down between her breasts.
Suddenly she was liberated from her desires. She didn’t need to be ashamed of what she liked or what she had done.
“I don’t think I’ll need to go back…if you can keep up with me.” She licked his neck.
Franco laughed as he sat up and pulled her onto his lap.
“Why don’t we see who gives out first?”
About the Author
Ruby Bassett lives a quiet life with her husband and two children. Except for when she’s lounging on the beaches of the Hamptons, traipsing around ancient Celtic ruins, or catching the latest Broadway show.
Visit Ruby at
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Turn the page to read an excerpt of Born Into Fire.
Chapter One
A breeze, that was him, fluttered the ivory curtains. Moonlight streamed through the open window, outlining the sleeping form beneath the sheet covering the queen-size bed. He hovered. Why had he answered the call of her element? He had no right. Anguish wrenched through him. Long ago, he’d answered the call of another Element, and she’d paid with her life. The memory—the pain—didn’t stop the rake of his gaze down the cotton sheet that revealed every lush curve of the sleeping woman’s body. Desire streaked through him. The fabric ruffled in response to his command, then slid downward.
He sucked in a harsh breath. Softly molded shoulders gave way to rounded breasts tipped with quarter-size areolas then a flat tummy and trim thighs led to long, toned legs. An unexpected vision surfaced of those legs wrapped tight around his waist while he thrust into her. The swirling vortex that was his core leaped into a furious dance.
Go, his mind commanded.
Fluid veins of amber light erupted beneath her skin. He stood frozen, her fire a drag on his wind that lay open the ache buried deep within.
Leave, came a second panicked admonition.
She inhaled.
Realization hit.
Too late.
She drew him deep into her lungs. Warmth infused him in a heady rush. He struggled in desperation to escape the current, but each beat of her heart thrummed through him, echoing in his mind in a thunderous rhythm. The flow of blood through her veins washed over him like a thick velvet river.
And he gave in.
As if sensing him, she hesitated, then breathed him out on a shaky exhale. He shuddered, the loss tearing a howl of fury from him.
“More
.” She wanted more. He needed more.
As wind, he lay beyond tangible comprehension, a cool breeze, nothing more. He could take a small piece and not imprint on her. This woman would be born into fire—without him.
In one decadent breath, he draped himself over her,
touched
all of her. Her heated skin cooled. No mortal man could experience her as he did. No mortal man could touch her as he could. He chilled the air over her nipples, then watched as they peaked, and felt them pucker. Commanding a gentle breeze, he caressed her contours, fitting his shape to hers.
She moaned. Excitement rocketed through him, and the current within him swirled. She shivered. He hesitated. Even a second too long would leave her with a sense of familiarity. He must leave or risk revealing himself—or worse, bonding.
Heat pooled between her legs. Every fiber of his being screamed,
go
. Yet, as if anchored by unseen chains, he remained motionless, unable to tear his eyes from the sight of energy that built in her erogenous points.
Only a moment, his heart urged. A mere whisper of her essence to ease the emptiness. Then he would leave.
He focused hot pressure, the wispy kiss of an Air Element, to her neck. As he trailed the pressure to her nipple, he turned the air icy. She bowed off the bed. He filled the space behind her arched back, curving up toward her neck and down across her rounded buttocks. Her breath came in quick pants, frosting the air—
him.
Frigid pressure tightened her nipples to erect peaks. He swirled air around the tips. She collapsed, thrashing on the pillow, and covered her breasts as if to ease the aching cold he created. Her hands heated until they glowed.
The fire within her.
The glow spread up her arms, radiated out from her torso, and emitted a scorching heat that heightened his frequency to a fevered pitch. Fire.
Fiera
. His heart constricted. He had no right to name her. He would not be the one to bring her into being. She would seek another. But he would have this memory.