Rebound (Tryst Island Series) (6 page)

“Okay then. How about this?” He kissed her again, this time with a tinge of desperation. He nearly suffocated her with his presence, pressing into her and clutching her and working her lips.

He kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. And he didn’t seem inclined to stop anytime soon.

Kristi forbore tapping her toes, but she was getting a little impatient. What she wanted—all she wanted—was to be with Cam. After a while, she tried to gently disengage, but he wouldn’t release her. She was on the verge of wracking him in the balls, which she really hated to do to a friend, when she was ripped from his arms and flung across the room. She landed with an “oof” on the leather sofa.

A sharp crack resounded, along with a feral growl. Something that sounded like, “
Mine
.”

Holt reeled back and collapsed in the lounger.
 

Cam turned to her with a ferocious glower and whipped her into his arms. His body hummed with tight tension. She suspected he would have tossed her over his shoulder if he’d needed to.
 

He didn’t need to.

She was right where she wanted to be.
 

He’d lifted her so effortlessly, it made her feel like a delicate china doll. She wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled closer as he carried her down to the basement. She loved that he’d stormed to her rescue wearing only his pajama bottoms. His chest was bare and broad and warm.
 

“My hero,” she whispered into his ear, and he relaxed, but just a bit.

“I was wondering what was taking you so long.”

“Bella kept chatting.”

“Bella’s a chatterbox. She needs a man to take her in hand.”

“Mmm. I like the sound of that.” She toyed with his nipple. He nearly missed a step so she decided not to do any more of that until they were finished with the stairs. “Would you like to take me in hand?”

“I’d like to turn you over my knee.”

She chuckled. “Me? What did I do?”

He gaped at her. “Other than passionately kissing Holt?”

“I wasn’t kissing Holt, and you know it.”

“Really?” He crossed the rumpus room and shouldered into his bedroom and tossed her onto the bed. She bounced. “Then what the hell was that?” He waved at the ceiling.

Kristi straightened her nightgown, primly covering her bare calves. “
He
was kissing
me
.”

His brows bunched. “Not okay. Do you know what seeing that did to me? God, Kristi. It ripped me up inside. I wanted to
kill
him.”

“He had to know.”

“Know?” He hit a warbling tone that would make America Idol contestants green with envy. “What did he have to know?”

“That I feel nothing for him.”

That shut him up. He stopped, stock-still and stared at her. “Nothing?” This, in a little boy voice.
 

Other than shock that two of her longtime friends had declared their intentions in the space of one evening? “Not a thing.” She wormed her way off the bed and sashayed toward him, swinging her hips. “Less than nothing, in fact.” She stood on tiptoe to press a kiss on his lips. “It was like kissing my brother. Or my uncle. Or Professor Layhea.”
 

“Professor Layhea?” Against his will, his lips tweaked. She could tell he was fighting it. His pout was kind of adorable. “Professor Layhea
was
pretty sexy.”

She kissed him again. Made her way along the line of his jaw to his lobe. Dabbed her tongue in his ear. He shuddered.

“I do find nostril-beards
über
 sexy. And older men who take their baths in Old Spice—ha cha cha.”

His brow rose. His fingers curved around her waist and he pulled her closer. His cock stirred against her belly. “Did you ever kiss Professor Layhea?”

“Just the once.” She laughed when his eyes boggled at her boldfaced lie. She rubbed against his growing ardor. “I had to. I needed an A.”

“Hussy.” He eased her back onto the mattress pinning her there with his hardness, his heat. He hovered over her, staring at her for a long while. Then he slowly lowered his head and kissed her.

It didn’t take long for their teasing mood to completely evaporate. It was replaced by a crackling arousal. His cock pressed into her with an uncomfortable insistence. She wiggled a little bit and he shifted so it pressed against her cleft instead. He rubbed, up and down, like a cat, until she moaned.

“I shouldn’t want you again,” he murmured against her lips.

“Of course you should.”

“You drained me completely fucking dry earlier.”

“We forgot to use a condom.”

He nibbled her neck. “You’re on the pill.”

She hiked up her nightgown, enough so she could hook her legs around his butt. Tugged him closer. “I can’t believe how many times you made me come.”
 

“How many?”

“I lost count.”

“Really? I noticed two.”

“Oh, there were more than two.” She scored his back with her nails; he shivered. “It was probably a fluke though.”

He reared back. “What?”

“You know. On account of the fact I was so horny.”

“How, um, how horny were you?”

“Pretty horny.”

“How long… I mean, how long since—”

She drew his head back down. “I don’t want to talk about it. Point is, it was probably a fluke.”

“It wasn’t a fluke. I’ll have you know, I’m damn good in bed.”

“We’ll see.”

“What?
We’ll see
?”

“We haven’t done it in a bed.” This, she stated rather prosaically. “We’ll just see if you can do it again. Make me come like that again.”
 

A slow smile quirked his lips. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“I do believe it was.”

“Well, madam, if there’s one thing Cameron Jackson cannot do, it’s resist a challenge.” He teased her hem higher and she laughed.
 

“Yes,” she said. “I know.”

Funny.

Funny and sexy and damn stimulating.

That’s what Kristi was.

Perfect.

She even wiggled out of that prissy nightgown when he rolled to the side, pulling it over her head and tossing it over his shoulder. His breath caught in his throat as her breasts bobbed free. Glorious.

“Well,” she said with a tiny frown. “What are you waiting for?”

“I’m not waiting. I’m savoring.” He cupped her firm full mounds. Their weight delighted him. Her nipples perked up, even as he stared at them. He couldn’t resist drawing one, then the other, into his mouth. Delicious.

She squirmed at that, rubbing against his cock.

He pressed her breasts together and did what he’d been yearning to do since he’d seen her in her swimsuit last summer, buried his face between them and drew in her scent. Exquisite. She smelled like summer. Like summer and talcum and woman. A groan hovered at the base of his throat. She was so soft, so pliant. Everything about her was welcoming.

“Hey, mister,” she muttered. “You’re not pleasing me. You’re pleasing yourself.”

He chuckled and lifted his head. “Oh, I’ll please you. I’ll have you screaming for mercy in a minute.”

“You wish.”

“
You
wish.”
 

“I guess my challenge wasn’t challenging enough.”

He scooted up, until they were nose to nose, tunneled his fingers through her lush brown hair and held her still as he kissed her. Kissed her as though his life depended upon it. Which he suspected, in one tiny corner of his soul, it did.

He could kiss her forever, he thought. He could nestle in and lap and lick and suckle those lush pink lips. He could crawl inside and explore with his tongue and nibble and nip until eternity came knocking on the door.

His cock had other ideas.

As he seduced her, coaxed her, cajoled her with his mouth, the monster rose, until he was so hard and full he ached. The only way to assuage the nagging hunger was to press against her. Even that wasn’t enough.

He wanted to pull down his pajama bottoms and slip into her creamy depths. But she’d issued a challenge. And he was determined to answer it. He wanted to make her come. Make her so crazy for him she’d beg, plead, howl to be fucked.

He could think of a couple ways to accomplish that. He decided to go for out and out teasing. Slowly, he made his way over her chin to her neck, feasting there until she sighed and cooed and dug her nails into his shoulders. He circled her breasts, placing tiny kisses on the very edge, where the swells just began, ignoring the nipples altogether. He was only half done when she lost her patience.

“Damn it, Cam,” she reached for her nipples herself.
 

He grabbed her wrists. “Ah, ah ah. Put your hands over your head, missy.”

“What?”

“Go on. Up over your head.” His grin at her expression was, perhaps, a trifle evil.
 

“But—”

“But nothing. This is the Cam Jackson show. You are a canvas, and I’m painting on you. Come on. Do it.”

With a gusty sigh, she raised her arms.

“Good girl. Leave them there.”

“Get back to work. And quit driving me crazy.”

“I want you crazy.” To prove his point, he went back to work, making sure to go as slow as he could bear. Before long she was twitching restlessly.

As enjoyable as this torment was, he wanted, needed to continue his journey. Every inch of her was a new delight to relish. He made his way over her torso, appreciating the way the rise of her ribcage plunged to a flat belly. He spent a while exploring that creamy expanse before he suckled the rim of her bellybutton and dabbed in his tongue.

She quivered when he shifted downward. Sucked in a breath, held it, as he neared her haven. He loved that her thighs stole apart as he drew closer. That she wailed when he passed on by in favor of sampling the delicious skin of her thigh, the sensitive spot behind her knee and the ticklish arch of her graceful foot.

He would have spent more time on her toes, but even as she was steeped in anticipation, so was he.

He made his way up the other leg, although this trip was much quicker than the downward journey. He’d lost patience for this teasing game. He wanted to taste her and he wanted it bad.

She whimpered a little when he finally reached the crux of her thighs. He reverently opened her with his thumbs and stared at her beautiful hidden pearl. Then blew. Just blew. One slow, tender exhalation. Her body seized. Even as he watched, a glistening of cream seeped from her. He shuddered at the knowledge she was ready.

But she wasn’t ready enough.

He drew a finger along her slit, intending to make his way to her hard, tight clit. But her heat, her slickness stayed his hand. He glanced up at her, lust searing him.

“What?” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re so wet.”

“Of course I’m wet. You’ve been teasing me for hours.”

“Not hours.”

“It feels like hours.”

“I haven’t even done the back.”

She shot up on her elbows and glared at him. “You’re not doing the back.” And then, “At least not tonight. Come on. Finish it.” She put her palm to his head and tried to push him down, down into her simmering nest.

He pushed back. “Did I say you could move your arms?”

“What?”

“Go on. Lay back down. Arms over your head. Let me do my thing.”

“But—”

“You don’t want me to tie them up there, do you?”

Her eyes widened and she nibbled her lower lip as she considered his threat. And then she said something that sent lust snaking through him. “Not tonight.” She plopped back down and lifted her arms again, spreading her thighs wider. “Okay. Continue.”

He loved the tremor in her voice.

She was on the edge, but he was right there with her. He didn’t make her wait any longer. He lowered his head and drew his tongue lightly along her cleft. Her scent, her taste, sank in, grabbing him with vicious claws. He delved deeper, teasing the opening with his tongue, drinking her in. His nose nudged her clit and she flinched, groaned.

Poor thing. It really needed his attention.

So he returned, tasting his way to the crux of her vulva where that aching bundle of nerves awaited. He circled it, glorying in her response, her cries, the impatient thrusts of her hips. When he took her between his lips and sucked, she screamed. The sound was muffled. He suspected if he looked up, he would see she’d draped her arm over her mouth to hold in the sound.

But he wasn’t looking up. No way. No how.

He was too engrossed. Too fascinated by his discoveries. Too busy experimenting.
 

Ah. If he licked, just like that, she would thrash and if he nibbled the underside of her clit, she would mewl. When he sucked her in again, she shuddered and shook.