Reckless in Moonlight (3 page)

Sure, she’d issued the invitation like an experienced femme fatale and then suffered the agony of humiliation when she thought Lon had rejected her, but she truly did not expect him to join her! She had to tell him pronto she’d made a mistake, order him to get dressed. Christ, put on her own clothes.

Except her mouth wouldn’t obey the commands of her brain. She dropped her arms to her sides and gloried in every inch of his flesh as he revealed it. Smooth skin stretched over quarterback shoulders, a muscled chest, sculpted abs, and strong thighs. An
erect
cock, more impressive than the one she’d conjured up in her fantasies, arose from a thatch of blond hair.

Dana’s mouth went dry as he padded to the pool and stepped in. In her body’s center, yearning mingled with languor, a paradoxical contrast to the rigor that paralyzed her limbs. A wetness that she couldn’t blame on immersion in a pool of water dampened her cunt.

Say something
! her common sense yelled, but Dana was afraid to speak, feared she’d either start blithering like the idiot she was, or she’d start to laugh and be unable to stop.

Lon waded toward her through the three-foot-deep shallows, the water lapping at his hips barely covering his erection, a disarming grin on his face. From the level of heat that inflamed her body, Dana half expected the pool’s water to boil.

He stopped in front of her, close enough to touch. She itched to do so; she wanted to caress his smoothly chiseled chest, trace the ripple of his abs, test if her fingers would meet if she encircled his cock. She needed to cling to his bulging biceps for support, because she desperately needed some.

His scanned her face but no lower, earning him respect for not blatantly checking her out despite her brazen nudity. His blue eyes mirrored the same amusement carried in his confident smile, but as she peered into the depths of his gaze, she detected a flicker of uncertainty. Her willpower wobbled like her legs.

Transfixed, she watched as he dunked himself under the water.

“Whew, that feels good,” Lon said when he resurfaced. The water wasn’t cold enough to chill the fever that heated his blood and thickened his cock. He knew the divorcée’s invitation wasn’t a serious one and had braced himself to be rejected when he’d hauled ass through the gate. That he’d gotten this far showed promise, but he had to proceed carefully now.

She was still gawking at him like he was a two-headed sea monster that had emerged from the deep.

Casually, he said, “The heat wave has been brutal.” So was standing next to her. She was fucking hot—his wet dream transformed into a water nymph. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d jacked off to her image—but how uninspired and unimaginative he’d been. He hadn’t foreseen how her skin would glow under the moonlight, that her dark hair would lay like wet silk against her head, how plump her pink mouth was, how much more lush her tits were. Firm and high on her chest, the mounds appeared to be the right size to fit his palms. Of course, he couldn’t be certain unless he tested his hunch. Her nipples jutted out rosy and erect, from the cold water or arousal, he wasn’t sure. But either way, Lon wanted to draw those pebbles into his mouth, see if she was as tasty as she looked.

“Yes,” Dana said.

The single word spoken in her husky tone sent shockwaves rippling through his body until Lon realized she was responding to his comment about the weather.

“She speaks!” he teased.

“She does. Now if she could think of something to say.”

Lon tilted his head. “You’re surprised I accepted your invitation.” She looked as if a submarine had torpedoed her. He wanted to see that same expression of wide-eyed shock as he drove his dick into her wet, convulsing pussy.

Dana nodded. “Yeah.” She paused, and Lon held his breath, prepared to be banned from her premises like an unruly child at a public swimming pool. “But I’m glad you did,” she said.

Relief, followed by a cock-throbbing thrill, whipped through him.

He’d just climbed into his brothers’ fort when Dana had emerged from her house. He had started to yell hello when she’d shucked her swimsuit and plunged into the pool. Instant hard-on. Though he’d felt like the worst sort of Peeping Tom, when she’d begun masturbating, he’d unzipped his pants and did likewise. As she neared orgasm, she’d moaned, and in his lust-fueled mind, he’d imagined he’d heard his name on her lips. The notion propelled him to climax, and he’d shot his spunk all over himself.

Then the ex arrived.

The old man wasn’t here now. But
he
was, and this was the chance Lon had been hoping for since he’d first spotted Dana across his parents’ driveway months ago. But he needed to give her a little space, make her comfortable. Their age difference didn’t matter shit to him, but he had a feeling it might be an issue for Dana—at least initially.

“So, should we swim?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he pushed off. He kept his head down and his windmilling arms close to his body. With small, fast kicks, he sliced sharply through the water. He enjoyed swimming and had lettered on his high school team, although the demands of medical school and his residency had curtailed most outside activities, including swimming.

When he swam, he wore a Speedo to cut the drag, but the difference in sensation the absence of that small scrap of nylon made was akin to the difference between fucking with and without a rubber. Even his chest, back, and legs—parts normally exposed—registered the touch of the water more acutely. But as sensual as the cool wetness felt on his cock, he longed for something hot and wet around his shaft.

Dana’s cunt
. He reached the back wall and somersaulted to complete the return to her side.

She was anchored in the same spot, but her dazed look had diminished, and she appraised him openly. Her admiration heated every micron of his body.

“You must swim often,” she said.

“Not so as much as I used to. You’re not going to swim?”

Dana shook her head. “After your Olympic performance? No way. I’m not very good.”

“I could teach you.” Quickly he marshaled a plan. “But you have to show me first what you know.” Teaching her to swim was perfect—she’d be moving, doing something, and would be less likely to revoke her impulsive invitation. And he’d have an excuse to lay his hands on her body.

He waded closer. Another step and her hard nipples would brush his chest. “Come on. Swim for me. Please.” He lowered his voice to a coaxing half octave. “Show me what you can do, and I’ll tell you a secret.”

“What kind of secret?” She tilted her head, and a curious smile appeared on her face. His cock tightened, and it was all he could do to resist grabbing her, spreading her legs, and driving into her right there.

He tamped down his desire and flashed a grin. “You’ll have to swim to find out.”

“You’ll laugh.” She shook her head, but he could tell by how she nibbled on her lower lip that she was weakening.

“I won’t. I promise.” He made a dramatic sign of crossing his heart.

Her naked breasts rose and fell as she expelled a sigh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said and dove into the water.

Only physics kept her afloat. She didn’t move through the water so much as she wrestled with it, taking it on like she was pummeling an opponent—only she was on the losing end of the fight. No synchronicity existed between the movement of her arms and legs. Limbs that should have been straight were bent; those that should have been bent were straight. Her head was too high. She came up for air at irregular intervals. She could no more swim a straight line than a drunk could walk one.

And she stole the oxygen from his lungs. Her thrashing only heightened his desire to have her writhe beneath him.

Dana managed to propel herself back and find her footing. “Well? What do you think? Am I ready to compete in the Olympics?” Her eyes danced, and her breasts bounced on her heaving chest.

Lon smothered his own amusement because he’d promised, so he focused instead on a water droplet that slipped off her collarbone to run down her breast and hover on the bead of one red nipple. He itched to retrace the droplet’s path with his tongue.

“You swim like a duck,” he lied with a straight face.

She laughed at herself, a carefree, sexy sound that delivered a sexual kick to his groin.

He spent the next fifteen minutes giving her pointers, demonstrating how to keep her legs straight but not rigid, how to move her arms, how and when to breathe. At the end of it, they swam several laps together before returning to the shallows. She wasn’t an athlete, but her motions at least resembled swimming.

“You’re a miracle worker,” she said, breathing a little heavy. She ran a hand over her wet hair and squeezed out the water. “So what’s the secret?”

High in the sky, the face of the full moon glinted oddly. If he were a fanciful sort, he might have said the moon’s face looked triumphant, but Lon gave it all the consideration it was due—which was none—because he had more important things to focus on.

Like Dana.

“Secret?” Lon’s gaze met Dana’s.

“You promised you’d tell me if I swam for you.”

He waded closer until her perfect nipples poked his chest. He felt her shiver, and he tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, then bent his head so that his lips hovered next to her lobe. “My secret is…I want to fuck you,” he whispered.

Fortunately, Dana had a swim buddy, because her legs were going to give out, and she might drown. Of course, her swim buddy had
caused
the weakening of her limbs, the tremors, and the difficulty breathing. What did one do when one’s fantasy assumed solid form right before one’s eyes? Lon’s words, his warm breath, his husky rumble, revved her racing libido. A devil of desire perched on one shoulder, an angel of reason on the other.

Fuck him. Start at his lips, and lick every water droplet until you get to his cock. Suck him dry, and then start all over again. Ride him until you walk like a bowlegged cowboy.

Say thanks, but no thanks, and send the neighbors’ son packing. You never should have invited him over.

Her nipples already dusted his chest, but the devil shoved her closer so that her breasts flattened against his pecs and his young man’s cock dug into her abdomen. His skin should have been cool from the water, but he radiated Lucifer’s own heat. Her pussy quivered and moistened.

Move away
, the panicked angel cried. Dana didn’t dare peek at Lon’s face but focused on his neck instead, taking an anatomical inventory of corded muscles, a masculine Adam’s apple, his unshaven jaw. The throbbing pulse.

He lifted her chin with a sure touch and kissed her. Heat and chills raced through Dana as his lips moved on hers, his stubble grazing her chin, his tongue delving inside her mouth to explore with a thoroughness that had her moaning. Fantasy couldn’t compare to the taste of Lon, butterscotch and man, sex and heaven baked into one sinful, soul-stealing dessert. The devil chortled as the angel fell.

Lon tangled his fingers in her wet hair, wrapping the strands around his fingers. Her scalp tingled. It was so similar to her fantasy that her knees buckled, and she sagged against him, clutching his shoulders for support. He tugged her head back to continue to plunder her mouth while he kneaded a breast. He traced the outline of her areola with a finger, then pinched the erect nipple, gently at first, but as it tightened, so did his fingers.

He relinquished her lips and hair to pluck at the nipple and draw on the other with his mouth, the heat and suction sending zings of pleasure from her breast to womb.

Dana moaned as he slipped a hand downward to rub her clit with a back-and-forth motion. When he dipped into her cunt, it was his turn to groan.

“You’re wet. So fucking wet.” He pushed his finger deeper, then added a second and fucked her with his hand while teasing her clit with his thumb.

Dana slid her hands from his shoulders down over his chest and brushed his erect nipples before seeking out her prize. It took two hands to encircle his cock. She closed her eyes as she stroked him like a blind woman reading from touch to memorize the smooth mushroom head, the thick encompassing ridge, the steely shaft. Waves lapped at his body and Dana yearned to be that water.

He bit her nipple, delivering a sting of pleasure. “Your tits are more perfect than I imagined, your cunt hotter and tighter.” Lon released her and took a step back, the movement pulling his cock out of her grasp. She followed his gaze to her chest. Illuminated by the moon, her nipples stuck out like two bullets, forming a men’s magazine cartoon caricature of a woman’s torso. The tips of her breasts had never been so engorged, so achy for a man’s touch.

He must have read her mind, because he tugged on each one, pulling and twisting with just the right amount of firmness. “Have you ever thought of having your nipples pierced? Put a ring here, and here.” He pinched the base of each peak. “Gorgeous.”

Piercings were for young, slim girls—not middle-aged women who had to watch every ounce they put in their mouths and still exercise like a marathoner to keep the weight off—but she shivered with the possibilities his suggestion afforded. She envisioned her breasts chained together, Lon tugging on the leash, pretending to force her to go down on him. Maybe it wasn’t such a crazy idea.

His eyes burned hot, and his nostril flared. “I didn’t expect this. I don’t have a condom with me.”

Nor did she.

Dana peered at him from under her lashes. “Why don’t we see what we can do without one?”

Dana’s sultry smile shot straight to his cock in a burst of heat. Every touch, hell, every glance from this sexy woman fed the furnace of desire, stoking the flames of lust higher and higher. When she leaned forward and licked his nipple, scraped her teeth across the nub, his cock twitched. It was probably a good thing he’d jerked off in the tree house.

His assumption had been correct. Her breasts did fill his palms, but, due to his lack of foresight, he was unable to verify another hunch—that her steaming pussy would fit his erection like a glove. God, he wished he could fuck her without a rubber. Just skin to skin, wet heat to hard shaft.