Melt (11 page)

“Some might have been, but I never pushed the issue. One or
two of them liked vibrators but nothing more. Over the years I added to the
collection. Just in case.”

“So you were waiting for me to get some use out of them,”
she teased, circling her navel with a pale pink fingernail.

“In more ways than one, I was waiting.” He rushed ahead
before she could comment. “Besides, not all of them require a partner. The cock
rings for one. Those
are
used.” His
gaze sharpened on her dreamy expression. “How does it feel?”

She flexed her hips, and he again caught her scent, the musk
and tang of it. “Like the smallest cock ever.”

Justin laughed and leaned down to grasp her knees, spreading
them. She only watched him, a smile playing around her lips as she reached up
to roll one tight nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

“You take my breath away,” he murmured.

“I like that I do. I like that you look at me as if you’re
worshipping me with your eyes.” Her chin quivered. “Except for you, I never had
a guy friend before. Usually guys just want to get in my pants.”

He had to smile. “Hate to burst your bubble, but I did—I
do—too.”

“I know, but that wasn’t the only thing between us. Even
though you didn’t tell me about your family before, you told me about you.
About your job, your likes, dislikes. We
talked
.
About everything. You used to share stories about who you were seeing, when I
asked. There hasn’t been anyone for a while,” she said slowly.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I think you know the answer to that, Kylie.”

She squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m afraid,” she whispered.

Hearing her say those words was one of his worst fears
realized, even though logically he knew she didn’t mean she was frightened of
him. But today’s display with her ex hadn’t helped ease his mind. “Of me?”

“No. Of
me
. I want
this too much, and after Rob, let’s just say I don’t trust myself to not screw
it up.” She let out a broken laugh. “I’m also afraid that I have no choice but
to let it play out. Because I don’t think I can walk away.”

The muscles he hadn’t realized he’d tensed relaxed. He’d
been dreading the moment she told him she was leaving, figuring she’d only want
what they had for as long as she stayed there with him. The moment she had time
to think, she’d go back to being sensible and say they should take their time.

He couldn’t take his time. Wanting her was like a blade
against his throat, a rope around his cock. The idea of sleeping alone night
after night for no real reason had wrecked him, but he’d promised her he could
handle it.

Now maybe he wouldn’t have to.

He tugged her butt to the edge of the mattress and smiled at
her raspy inhale. He glanced at the bandage around her ankle, and something
inside him went soft. She had to be hurting, and yet she never backed down from
a challenge. Or an adventure, whether it was inside or out. “Is that the wine
talking or you?”

“Maybe a little of both, but it’s the truth. I just might
not be able to say it as easily normally.”

“So if I slip one of those dildos inside you, then turn you
over and slap your beautiful ass until that butt plug feels huge inside you,
until you’re throbbing for my cock, you won’t shriek and run away.”

Now her laughter was throaty. “I’ll shriek and beg for
more.”

“And if I take out the plug and shove my cock inside you
while I slide that dildo in and out of your pussy, you won’t wonder if I’m
really building up to demanding we have a fucking orgy, as if any other woman
in the world could ever compete with you.”

“No.” She gave him a faint smile. “Because I trust you. With
every part of my body, my mind, my heart. I trust you.” She lifted her arms and
stretched them over her head, arching her back so that her full breasts
strained against her cotton top. “Do what you want with me. To me.
With
me.”

Emotion moved through him, making his heart race and his gut
churn. He’d wanted to hear just those words, and now that he had, they were too
much. Her trust overwhelmed him. Something so fragile could be damaged
thoughtlessly. Irreparably.

God, she wasn’t the only one who was afraid.

Under his perusal, she took off her top and bra. Then she
reclined and widened her thighs as far as she could with the pants around her
ankles, smiling like the temptress she was. “I think I’d rather have a ride in
here. Fuck the snow.”

The perfume of her arousal swam in his head. “You drive me
insane, you know that?” he gritted out.

He cupped her face and slanted his mouth over hers. He kept
the kiss light as he grasped one of her breasts, thumbing the nipple with the
need he doubted he’d ever tamp down when it came to her. Her eyes shut, lashes
fluttering against her cheeks while he eased back to savor her breasts with
tongue and teeth.

The eager, yearning sounds she made pushed him past his
control. Soon he was sucking her deep, driven to take her further than she’d
ever gone before. Not just sexually. Sex was easy. He wanted to connect with
her in a way that wouldn’t fade as quickly as the scents of their lovemaking.

If he couldn’t be anything else to her right now, he could
be her friend. The best friend she’d ever had.

He rolled the bead on his tongue over each of her taut
peaks, then dragged it down the center of her torso. Her need fragranced the
air, and he bent to savor its sweetness, to sip from her center as if she were
his own personal chalice. She spread her legs wide, squirming under his erotic
assault, while he worked the butt plug in her ass in and out in concert with
his tongue in her slit. Every time she neared orgasm, he shifted his attention
to the lips of her sex, gently suckling, drawing his piercing over her sodden
flesh and using a single finger to tease her opening as her body clenched to be
filled.

“Goddamn you, Justin. You’re going to get it,” she
threatened, whacking his side with her heel. “You better let me come.”

Chuckling, he rose. “Oh hell yeah, I’m definitely going to
get
it
. Especially when it’s so pink
and wet, all for me.”

He shed his clothes, then crawled over her body, stopping
when he straddled her hips. Staring down at her in the faint light from the
hall, he traced the bow of her mouth with fingers damp from her excitement, and
simultaneously squeezed his cock. It throbbed in his grip, echoing the roar in
his head. As many times as he’d imagined having her beneath him again, the
reality didn’t touch the fantasy. Her blonde hair spilled over the dark
comforter, and her hands twitched with her desire to touch him. But she was
letting him run the show.

Slowly, he worked his cock, drawing his palm from root to
tip while she watched. Occasionally flashes of her tongue came out to torment
him from between her shiny lips. “Uh-uh. As good as you are with that mouth, I
want your pussy. Seems only fair, since I got it so nice and juicy.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You think that was from you? I
was imagining my celebrity crush. That Back Door Boy. What’s his name?
Timberfake
? Yeah, him. I was picturing his big, thick
dick—”

Before she could finish, he moved backward and rolled the
broad head of his cock over her slit, the only warning he gave her. Then he
thrust deep, spearing into her so hard and fast that her teasing litany ended
in a half cry. He held his thumb on her clit, flicking it on every inward
drive. Even with as small as the plug was, it made her tighter, and the satiny
grip of her sex around him tore groan after groan from his mouth.

“So. Fucking. Good.” He punctuated the words with brutal
strokes that she arched into eagerly. “Do you feel how deep I am?” He flexed
his hips, and she whimpered, rolling her head back and forth. “You’re throbbing
around me, and it’s making my balls ache. I want to come in you.”

He wasn’t wearing a condom, and right then he didn’t care.
It was a break from his gentlemanly protocol, but his need to brand this woman
robbed him of all good sense. If she said the word, he’d pull out and spend his
climax in his fist. If she didn’t, he’d lose himself in her and forget the rest
of the world existed.

“It’s okay. We’re covered.” She reached down to lay her cool
palm on the rippling muscles of his stomach. “Fill me with you,” she whispered.

His throat tightened, and he grabbed her hand, bringing it
up to his chest. He held it against his thundering heart while he picked up the
pace, lengthening his strokes, swiveling into her again and again in a way that
he knew would bring her to the peak quickest. She swelled around him, and her
body bowed up, yielding entirely to his as he pounded into her. No matter how
hard he fucked her, he never let go of his grasp on her hand—and she never
relinquished her invisible hold on his heart.

As much as he tried to stave it off, the climax built from
the depths of him, surging up through his clenching balls, streaking along his
spine. He braced, poised to leap with her. She had to be there with him.

And then she hurtled over first, jerking up to fuse her
mouth to his so that he tasted her cries of completion while her release bathed
his cock. Fighting the inevitable seemed useless, so he gave himself over to
it, to her, pulsing into her snug pussy again and again until their joint
arousal squeezed out around his length and soaked into the comforter beneath
her. It was dirty and erotic, and Jesus, he almost came again just seeing it
when he pulled out of her quivering cunt.

He trailed his finger down her cleft, groaning softly at the
moisture that drizzled over his digit. The plug in her ass was saturated, and
she gasped at the feeling of him turning it like a dial, setting off
aftershocks that sent more rivulets of their pleasure from her body.

“I have something important to tell you. Brace yourself.”

Her swallow was audible. “Okay.”

“
Timberfake’s
not from Back Door
Boys. He’s from
N’sanity
. You mixed up your boy
bands,” he murmured, placing a chaste kiss on her swollen nipple.

Giggling, she ran her fingers through his hair. He could
practically taste her relief. “I prefer men to boys, so it’s all good.”

“It certainly is. By the way,
Belieber
is the big thing now. Don’t want you to be out of fashion.”

“And that is a big concern of mine.” Eyes wide, she nodded
somberly.

He had to laugh as he drew back and cupped her face. “Let’s
go for that ride.”

Despite her complaints, he insisted she remove the plug
before they went outside. He just didn’t want to take any chances with her. It
turned out to be a moot point because the moment they stepped out into the
winter wonderland, she slipped on a patch of ice outside the door and back
inside they came.

The rest of the night was spent on the couch in front of the
fire with a bowl of popcorn and the remote. And if he couldn’t stop himself
from twirling her hair or touching her shoulder just to remind himself that he
wasn’t alone—and better yet, that
Kylie
was with him—who could blame him?

Justin smiled and shifted Kylie onto her side, draping her fall
of curls down his thigh. Not all fantasies that came true occurred in bed, he
mused. Some occurred in front of a roaring fire with reruns on TV and a
snoozing blonde stretched across his lap.

Groaning, Kylie rolled over in bed and pressed her face in
the center of her pillow, the scent of soap and man making her smile. She
didn’t open her eyes, just drifted on the contentment that wrapped around her
as warmly as the sheets and comforter.
Home
.
Her body ached a little, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. Because she
was finally safe and happy and…

Delusional.

The sounds of a guitar filtered into her consciousness, and
she reached out for the man who should’ve been at her side. Rob? No. Justin.
The names blurred as she struggled up on her elbows and tossed back her hair.

As soon as she looked around at the navy walls and the
hunter-green bedspread, she knew she wasn’t home. She didn’t have a home
anymore. But she had the soft strum of strings from behind her, the music a
caress over her heated skin. She didn’t recognize the song, but she knew the
low, lilting voice singing about a little fishing boat that was taking on too
much water to make it to shore.

She rolled over and stared at Justin, whose attention rested
solely on the battered guitar he stroked as patiently as a lover. His fingers
moved with precision, the song sweet and haunting and all the more memorable
for its simplicity. His gritty, sandpapery morning voice told the story of the
sinking ship with a sort of sad finality that made her throat swell. By the
time he’d finished, she was dashing away tears.

He glanced up and smiled, but the expression faded at the
sight of her face. “Hey, what’s the matter?” He set aside the guitar and rose
fluidly, then crossed the room to her in a few strides. “Bad dream?”

“No.” Feeling foolish, she snatched a tissue from the box on
the nightstand and tossed him a weak smile. All at once, her body had started
to ache again, probably in a race to keep up with her heart. “It’s a beautiful
song.”

Cocking his head, Justin sat beside her, bringing her gaze
to his bare abdomen. He wore a pair of flannel pants and no socks, and somehow
even the sight of his long toes made her own curl. “You liked it?”

“Yeah. I’ve never heard it before.”

“That’s because I wrote it.” He scratched the back of his
neck and stared out the window, bathed in the milky pink light of morning.
“I’ve written a few of them. This is the only one I’d sing for you.”

“You were singing it for me?”

His sheepish smile endeared her more than words ever could
have. “Well, yeah. But you slept through most of the concert.”