Play Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book) (21 page)

She’d be in bed with Elliott right this
second instead of half listening to Millie as she drove her
home.

Wasn’t two years starved for sex from her
husband part of the problem to begin with? She’d left platonic
security to find passion and love. And sex. (With someone besides
herself.)

If she were truly living as she’d intended
when she’d walked out Jason’s door, she’d be ecstatic to welcome a
twenty-something into her bed. She’d be bragging about it instead
of hiding the fact from her best friend. She wouldn’t care what
anyone thought, let alone what Millie thought.

“Are we ready to go shopping yet?” Millie
asked.

She should tell her now. She should wait for
a pause in Millie’s non-stop lesbian chatter and just spit it out.
She looked over. Millie grinned, kept talking. So what if Millie
had more than hinted she thought a guy like that was a giant
mistake? “I can’t.”

“I know. You have work.”

A fling with Elliott might be worth risking
her friend’s opinion. More importantly, Brooke might be worth it.
Jason was living his life, wasn’t he? He might be doing it in
secret, but he wasn’t waiting for some imaginary starting gun to
blast him into action. In fact, secret or not, good for him.

At least he was finally having sex. Good for
Jason. And good for whomever he was having his secret, dirty affair
with. Hey, maybe the truth would come out and liven up the next
Munkle holiday.

“I didn’t find anything for my web-store back
there, is all.” Liar!

“It’s cool. But, can you take me home? You
were right, I’m bored.”

Ten minutes later, she pulled up to Millie’s
apartment. Then Millie hugged her goodbye and rushed off. Brooke
sped home and into the shower in record time.

What would she say to him?

What would
he
say? What if he said
no?

Well, she would have to convince him
otherwise, that’s what.

Nina Simone’s velvety voice crooned from the
speakers.
I need a little sting on my clover….
Brooke
shampooed, conditioned, inhaling the sweet citrus scent, for once
embracing the images flashing through her. His body, naked, wet.
Above her. Below. His eyes seeing into her. Her, not hiding.
Staying bare and defenseless. Searing. Wet.

No more running. No more scared. She would
get what she wanted. Everyone else in this world did. Why not her?
God, she wanted him. Too young, too beautiful, spinning her head,
Elliott. All to herself, for as long as she could have him.

She toweled off and clamored for her purse.
She dialed his number. It rang. She held her breath to steady her
voice. She knew, just knew in her soul, he would answer. Whether or
not he’d tell her to screw off, she didn’t know. She wouldn’t think
that far ahead.

This moment. Now.

“Brooke?”

Oh, his voice. She’d forgotten how gorgeous
his voice was, how it woke deep, slumbering parts of her. “Hey,
you,” she said and damnit if she didn’t sound flirty, too.

“How are you?” he asked.

She could hear in his tone he wasn’t mad. She
hadn’t called for two days and he wasn’t mad. She’d played his same
dumb game. But he wasn’t begrudging her for it.

“I’m great now.” Had she just said that? Wow.
“I can’t tell you how hard it’s been waiting.”

His breath sounded through the phone. If only
it was on her neck. “Waiting?” he asked.

“Mmm hmm,” she said and lay upon her bed,
stretching her legs out, letting the towel fall open.

“For what?” he asked, a catch in his voice
sending thrills down to her toes.

She paused, grinning at the ceiling. “For
opportunity, of course.” Oh, she’d forgotten this side of herself.
This hidden vixen. Where had she buried it all these years? And
why?

He chuckled. Did he like her little game? Can
Elliott come out to play? “Oh? What kind of opportunity?” he
asked.

Brooke smacked her lips loudly so he could
hear and imagine. “The chance to be alone,” she said.

Silence, the delicious, erection-on-my-mind
kind. For all of four staggering seconds.

“Are you,” he said. “Alone?”

“Mmmm hmmm,” she said. “All alone.
Finally.”

“Finally,” he said on a sigh. “Give me twenty
minutes.”

She suppressed a giggle, kicking her feet
into the covers. “What if I can’t wait that long?” she mewled.

“Fifteen. I’ll make it fifteen. I swear it.
Just, don’t start without me.”

“Mmmm. I don’t know if I can promise that.
I’m all wet from a hot, steamy shower.” She lowered her voice to a
whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about your face between my
legs.”

“Alright. Okay. Just don’t end without
me.”

Her cheeks hurt from smiling. They hung up
and Brooke leapt up. She had a lot to do in fifteen minutes. Body
oil, make-up, deodorant, perfume.

Stay in towel or bra and panties? Satin robe?
No, towel. Sexy. Wet hair. She scrambled around, trying not to
sweat too much, shoved laundry in the closet and under the bed,
opened wine, checked the clock.

His knock sounded. She dropped the corkscrew
on the counter and rushed to the door. A peek through the peephole
confirmed it was him. Really him. Her knees wobbled a little. Not
the best timing for adrenaline to kick up so high. Her inner vixen
helped Brooke swing open the door, cock her head and, in a snap,
bailed on her. Brooke tucked back behind the door, knees
quaking.

Elliott beamed. “Hi there.”

“Hi” she said. God, she’d forgotten how
gorgeous he was. One smile and her whole body turned watery.
Come back inner vixen, come back!
How was she supposed to
seduce him with this many butterflies? Even her chin was
shaking.

His grin widened. He leaned against the
doorframe. “Miss me?”

“Maybe a little.” Her fingers trembled making
her towel slip free of them. She screeched, catching it mid-waist.
Elliott reached out, but Brooke knocked against the door. “Ouch.”
She rubbed the spot.

“Whoa there. Are you alright?”

“Yes, fine. Great.” The cold air made her
shiver. “Come in.”

“Doors don’t like you, do they?” he teased.
“How’s the nose, by the way?”

Elliott shut the door and shoved his hands
into his jeans. They were faded and worn and frayed. Had his shirt
been off, he could have walked off of a 501’s billboard.

She winced. “Oh, fine. Perfect. Everyone
overreacted, I think.” What had she been thinking answering the
door in a towel? Where was all her bravado? Probably suffocating
under sweat and nerves. “Give me just a minute.”

Brooke left him to make himself comfortable,
mind racing. She had no idea what to wear. That black dress Millie
got her came to mind, but, no. Too dressy. Jeans? Like she had any
decent ones that wouldn’t leave crease marks all over her belly and
hips once he got her naked.

Oh, Jesus. Naked. She’d almost forgotten the
whole reason for asking him over in all her fuss. Sex. That’s it.
Nothing more. So, who cared what she wore? Right? Right.
Stick
to sexy and stop worrying about first or second or third
impressions. He’s here, isn’t he?

Her hair was half dry and frizzing up nicely.
She wrapped herself in her silky Victoria’s Secret robe. More thigh
than she remembered it exposing but the jade green fabric shone
prettily in the streaming daylight. Enough light to conceal and
reveal, all at once. Heat washed through her.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had
sex in the afternoon. Glasses clinked from the kitchen. Was he
getting them wine? Good. Maybe it would calm her. She adjusted
herself in the mirror, patted a sheet of TP over her glistening
face, checked her underarms and shook her hands out.

Elliott looked up from the kitchen counter
when she walked out of her room. His hand stilled. Carefully, he
set down the wine glass. He came around the bar counter and toward
her. Brooke couldn’t move. She went for her best come hither pose
but as soon as he laid eyes upon her, she locked up.

Her pulse accelerated, her body moistened.
He’d taken his jacket off. A snug grey t-shirt outlined his
shoulders and chest. His pectorals curved and dipped. Her mind
recalled his chiseled abs underneath. Her fingers itched to feel
him.

He stopped in front of her. Close. His heat
emanated off of him. “What took you so long?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He cupped her
face and pulled her close. His other hand splayed over her lower
back. Strength. Tenderness. His gaze held to hers, searching. For
what? An answer?

Even if she had one, she couldn’t talk. She
could hardly breathe past the anticipation spiraling up inside her.
Her inner vixen returned and she brought an appetite.

Brooke tugged his shirt up. She touched him.
At first with her nails, then her fingertips. Upward and softly.
Elliott’s pupils flashed. All question left his eyes. Challenge
replaced it.

Was he daring her?

Her hands found his jeans. She tugged the fly
open, button by button. She dropped to her knees, yanking his pants
down. His erection pressed at his boxers. She trailed her nails up
his calves, up the backs of his thighs, around to the front, all
the while holding her gaze to his.

Dare her, would he?

She was no timid little twenty -year-old
trying to please a man to keep a man. She was a grown woman who
knew what she wanted. For far too long, she’d denied her needs.
Years with Jason. Months after him. No more. The gods had given her
Elliott.

His gaze intensified with every inch that she
drew closer to his erection. His body jerked as her hands inched
in. Over his boxers, inward, nails tickling. Mouth watering.

She broke their gaze and focused on his
burgeoning need. Pulling his boxers slowly down, she thrilled at
his sharply indrawn breath. She wanted to make him beg. First, she
skimmed the tip of him with her lips, letting her hot breath
envelop his softest skin. Elliott’s hands came to her hair. She
nudged them away and took charge, flicking her tongue over the tip
and licking down his length.

He was beautiful. Thick and hard, wanting
only her.

Brooke took her time. She wanted to make him
forget every other woman he’d ever known. Elliott gasped as she
took him into her mouth and suckled, rolling her tongue along the
edge of his cock. He throbbed in her mouth. She groaned, enjoying
the vibration, imagining the sweet torture she gave him. Her body
grew wet at the very idea.

Then she stopped.

Elliott gasped again. “Jesus, Brooke. If you
knew what you do to me….”

She rose to her feet, hands lingering where
he wanted her so badly, wet from her kiss, slick in her hands.

His body jerked. She smiled wickedly, letting
go. Not yet.

She would savor this affair, drink up every
drop. Then end it satiated. She wouldn’t kid herself into believing
more could come of this and she no longer cared. Being and feeling
like this with him, because of him, was enough.

Elliot’s hands encircled her waist. He pulled
her to him and kissed her. His mouth commanded her lips, his tongue
seduced her tongue. Her arousal stoked hot fire through her body,
weakening her limbs. She leaned into him. He broke away to kick off
his jeans and boxers, then remove his shirt.

He returned to her, his erection pressing her
belly. She pressed back letting her hands find it. Elliott groaned
as his mouth ravaged hers, demanding more. She recognized his
desperation, because the same need coursed through her. She could
sink into him, wrap him around her and bury him inside of her all
at once, and it wouldn’t be enough. She would still need more.

He nipped her lips then sucked. She grasped
his flesh, stroking it. Her robe fell to the floor, her
insecurities up in smoke. Skin on skin, warmth and chill at once.
Her nipples hardened, grazing against his hard chest. Elliott
cupped both breasts, teasing his thumbs over her nipples. Brooke
gasped in pleasure. His mouth moved to her throat while his hands
massaged sweet circles on her aching breasts and his cock teased
closer to her heat. Heady arousal thundered through her veins.
Touch and sensation swallowed her thoughts up. No fears, only
feeling.

She breathed his woodsy scent in. She tasted
his salty skin. Her own breathy panting filled her ears, like the
distant slip and crash of waves. Drawing her closer, sheer pleasure
ready to pull her under.

Elliott scooped her into his arms and strode
to her bed. He laid her there, then joined her, above her. Brooke
pulled him to her, ready to dive into the hot abyss. Elliott shook
his head, no. Something naughty glittered in his heavy lidded eyes.
He pinned her wrists above her head and licked, down her chest,
over each peaked nipple, down her belly.

Brooke writhed, torn. His mouth would feel so
good, wet and hot on her aching need. But she wanted to feel
him
inside of her. His erection, deep, hard, long. She shook
her head and gripped his shoulders. “Please, Elliott” she said and
held his gaze.

He groaned and buried his face into her neck,
but he didn’t move. Brooke’s body begged for more. She couldn’t
help herself. She wiggled her hips, negotiating his cock into
position.

“You’re going to make me come,” he said,
hoarse.

His cock felt so decadent against her. She
dipped and pressed, manipulating it forward. The musky scent of
their bodies fed her desire as much as his throaty words. “Not
before I do,” she whispered.

Brooke pushed her hips up. His cock slid into
her. She inhaled as the exquisite feel of his cock filled her up.
Elliott lifted his head. Ardor beyond anything she’d ever known
blazed in his eyes. More than want, adulation shone in them and it
sent her to pleasure’s precipice.

Elliott slid full into her as her walls
clenched with the first grips of orgasm. Such sweet fullness. Had a
man ever felt so delicious? Her eyes fluttered closed. A deep moan
escaped her.