Seeing Spots (3 page)

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Authors: Ellen Fisher

Tags: #leopard, #shapeshifter, #shapeshifting, #ellen fisher, #seeing spots

BOOK: Seeing Spots
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"I’ve done quite a bit of work this
morning." She smiled up at him, very sweetly. "But sometimes a girl
needs to take a break."

She leaned into him, her
silk-covered breasts brushing against the bare skin of his chest,
and every objection in his head shattered like crystal hit by a
brick. He 
felt
 like he'd been hit by a brick. His knees went weak, his
head began to whirl, and he was very definitely
sweating.

His hands tightened on her waist, and then
it wasn't just her breasts pushing into him. She was pressed
against him all the way down. He could feel her body molding itself
against his steel hard-on, and he gave a sigh of pleasure and
relief at the sensation.

His hips flexed, and he rubbed against her,
and that was good, too, so good that another little sigh escaped
him.

His hand lifted, because he couldn't stop
himself from touching her, exactly where he'd wanted to touch her
since the moment he'd seen her bra. His thumb brushed
experimentally over the leopard print, and just as he'd
imagined, her nipple hardened beneath his touch. And now she
was the one sighing.

Encouraged, he stroked her a little faster,
and her hips began to move against his, in a steady rhythm that
suggested sex very clearly to his fevered brain.

Sex
. He admitted to himself that he’d wanted to have sex
with her for a long, long time. Maybe since high
school. Oh, hell, definitely since high school. He’d had crazy
hot fantasies about her back then, and the fantasies had never
entirely gone away. But he’d never really let himself think about
her that way on a conscious level before.

But once the idea took root in his brain, he
just couldn't get it out again. He thought about plunging into her
body, thought about how hot and wet it would be to be inside her,
thought about feeling her cream all over his hard, aching flesh,
and a long moan rose from his throat unbidden. She was moaning too,
and he felt her hands at his waistband, unbuckling his belt and
unfastening his jeans.

He suddenly realized that he was undoing her
jeans, too. He hadn't meant to, really. But right now he was the
slave of some dark, primitive part of his brain. His brain gave
orders, and he obeyed.

He peeled her jeans off, with some hip
wiggling from her to help the process along. She wasn't wearing
shoes, because she'd kicked off her sandals underneath her desk,
and the next thing he knew she was pressed up against him, wearing
absolutely nothing but leopard print and a happy smile.

Remembering his earlier fantasy, he dropped
to a semi-kneeling position, pulled her down a little, and began
brushing kisses over the front of her bra. She moaned, and he let
himself lick her nipple right through the silk, tracing wet circles
around the hardened flesh. And sure enough, her fingers dug into
his hair, asking for more. He opened his lips, drawing her nipple
into his mouth, and sucked hard, giving her what she wanted.

She cried out, and he inhaled, breathing her
in. He’d never noticed a woman’s scent before, but he realized he
could smell her arousal, could smell clearly how wet she was. She
smelled spicy and exotic, and it made him even harder than before.
He held her waist with one hand, holding her still, and he slipped
his other hand between her legs.

And God,
she 
was 
wet. He could feel it right through the silk.

 

*****

 

His mouth… was on… her breast.

Kathy felt her knees wobble. She’d never
felt such heat from a man’s mouth before. Fire pooled in the depths
of her abdomen, melting her the way hot caramel melts ice cream.
The feel of his mouth, the touch of his hand… it was all so perfect
she couldn’t stop the little cries that rose from her throat.

He felt good and smelled better. She
breathed in the fragrance of pine-scented soap and clean male skin.
And then she bent her head, inhaling the scent of his hair, and her
legs trembled worse than before.

She’d dreamed about this a long time, but
never dared to imagine it might actually happen. The sexiest man
she’d ever known, touching her intimately, with those big, callused
hands…

She shuddered, and barely managed to hold
back an orgasm.

This was apparently the day all her dreams
came true.

 

*****

 

Dare began to caress her, carefully and
slowly, and she twisted wildly against him, her voice raised so
loudly he was a little worried the neighbors might hear. He
imagined her coming, imagined the little muscles inside her
rippling and spasming, and suddenly he was totally and completely
done with foreplay.

He wanted nothing more in this world than to
make Katherine Parrish happy, but he didn't want her to come this
way. Not this time. Not their first time together. He wanted her to
climax while he was buried deep inside her.

He dropped all the way to the soft beige
carpeting, stripped off her panties in a single motion, and then
yanked her right down into his lap. Her hands reached down, shoving
his boxers out of the way, and he fumbled in his pocket for his
wallet. Thank God he had a condom, though it had probably been
there a while. He rolled it on, his fingers shaking with eagerness,
then lifted her a little, positioning her.

And then she was sliding down onto his
shaft, and she was so slick and hot that a sweet sensual pleasure
seemed to wash over every nerve in his body. God, she felt
good. So good.

Sex had never felt like this before.

His spine arched and his head dropped back,
and his hips moved of their own accord, thrusting deep into the
warmth of her body.

He heard her moaning, heard her gasping for
breath, and he knew that she was loving this just as much
as he was. She rose up on her knees and then lowered herself again,
riding him, and he slid further and further into her with every
thrust, until he was as deep inside her as possible, buried inside
her silken heat, all the way to the hilt. Hunger swelled inside him
until he thought he might burst.

He reached up and cupped her silk-covered
breast, stroking the nipple hard and fast, and she gave a sharp
cry, dropping her head forward, against his shoulder. And suddenly
he felt exactly what he'd fantasized about— her muscles, squeezing
him in fast, relentless contractions as she climaxed.

Need and feverish longing crushed his
self-control into dust. He gave a long, anguished cry as his cock
jerked fiercely inside her. And then come rushed from him in long,
intense spurts, and fiery heat suffused him, so intense he shook
with it.

At last he felt the contractions of her
inner muscles slow to little ripples, then fade out entirely.
As the pressure eased off, so did his orgasm. Relaxation made his
body warm and limp, and he discovered he couldn't sit up a minute
longer. He fell back onto the carpet, completely drained, and she
collapsed onto his chest.

They lay there in a profound silence
punctuated only by gasps. Eventually she moved her head slightly,
and he felt her dropping kisses against his bare skin.

Kisses
. Suddenly he remembered he had forgotten to kiss her.
Or maybe he hadn’t quite dared. Sex was one thing, but kissing was
another. In a way, kissing was more intimate than sex
was.

And yet she was brushing kisses over his
chest now, soft, gentle kisses that felt like they were full of
affection as well as attraction. Tentatively, he lifted his hand
and stroked her hair.

He thought fuzzily that he liked sharing
this with her, almost as much as he'd liked having sex with her.
Sharing the soft warmth of afterglow, sharing gentle kisses and
loving caresses, was something he'd never thought he’d be able to
do with Katherine Parrish. But he liked it. He liked it a lot.

He thought he might like to do it again.

He dragged his eyes open,
and realized that she was still wearing her leopard print bra. Heat
flooded his veins again, and all of a sudden, he knew there was
no 
might
 about it.

It wasn't even the leopard print, not
really. The spots had been a catalyst, but he knew he'd find her
just as sexy in black lace, or cotton, or nothing at all. No matter
what she wore, he was definitely going to have sex with her
again. And again, and again.Not just today, but for a long
time to come.

His arms tightened around her possessively.
She lifted her head and gave him a sexy little smile, and warmth
filled him, because he knew she'd reached the very same
conclusion.

He pulled her down to his chest, deciding
that he was going to make love to her again. Right here, right now.
And this time, he wasn't going to rush through it.

This time, he intended to
make love to her until 
she
 was seeing
spots.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

"Darren, we need to talk."

A little pang of anxiety squeezed deep in
Dare’s midsection at the words. Earlier today, he and Katherine had
shared some extremely hot sex. Not just once, but a whole bunch of
times.

When he’d finally had to reluctantly head
off to work, she’d asked him over to dinner after his workday was
done, and he’d agreed with enthusiasm. He’d had to work hard this
afternoon to catch up, but the good thing about owning his company
was that he made his own hours, so he’d knocked off early enough to
run an errand, and then shower and change. He'd walked into her
house tonight feeling pretty damn happy with the world.

But... well, everyone knew
that 
we need to
talk
 was feminine code
for 
I'm about to drop you like a hot
potato
. He’d heard the phrase enough to
know.

He tried to look calm and casual, like he
wasn't freaking out, and smiled as he sank into the deep cushions
of her comfortable, floral-print couch. "What do we need to talk
about, Katherine?"

"Us. Our
relationship. Everything." She didn't sit down next to
him. She stood next to the rose-covered couch, and he saw her
fingers fluttering nervously— never a good sign where Katherine was
concerned. When she was upset about something, her fingers twitched
frantically. He’d seen it back in high school, when she’d gotten
the only B of her high school career. He’d seen it again just
before graduation, as she worried about giving her valedictory
speech. He’d seen it when she worried about what font she needed to
use on his website.

"Sit down," he said gently, "and let's
talk."

She sat down, but not, as he had hoped,
right next to him. She sat at the other end of the sofa, leaving a
large gap between them. He sighed, knowing he'd been right.

Darren, we need to
talk
 was definitely code
for 
Darren, I'm about to dump your
ass
.

But that was what he’d expected, really.
He’d always known that Katherine Parrish was too smart, too
all-around awesome to keep someone like him long-term. He was just
a lawn care guy—not the kind of man a girl geek would ever be
interested in. He was way too ordinary for someone like her.

So really, he hadn’t been expecting her to
upgrade him to "boyfriend" status. The most he’d hoped for was that
she’d keep him around for hot sex on a regular basis. But judging
from her nervousness, even that had been too much to hope
for.

And that hurt, damn it. It hurt a lot.
Because they'd been as intimate as it was possible for two people
to be, and the optimist deep inside him had engaged in dreams of
the two of them spending lots and lots of time together.

Which had clearly been stupid.

"I think," she said nervously, her fingers
still fluttering like butterfly wings, "maybe we sort of rushed
into things this morning."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Yeah,
because we've only known each other for, what, ten years now?"

"True, but we haven’t really been, you know,
close. I mean, what we did was sort of… well, unexpected."

He couldn't help but be a little amused at
the hesitant way she spoke, because she'd been so sexually
confident, so assertive, this morning. She'd been the one to
suggest that he take a look at her panties, for God's sake. She'd
been the one to back him into a wall and press up against him.

She'd been the one on top.

He’d met women like that before, totally
confident in their own sexuality, right up until they started
thinking. It was the thinking that caused problems. Once women
began thinking about a situation, they overthought everything and
started stressing out.

Maybe, he thought, there was a simple
solution to that. Maybe he just needed to get her to quit thinking
so much.

"Katherine," he said, still taking care to
keep his voice gentle, "I don't think we rushed into things. If
anything, I think we were about ten years too slow."

"That's
sweet." 
Flutter,
flutter
. "But you and I both know
that you were never really interested in me that way..."

He gaped at her. "Excuse me?"

"Um, you know." Behind the dark-rimmed
glasses, her eyes brimmed with sorrow and an age-old hurt. "I was
never your type, Darren. I mean, in high school you were always
dating cheerleaders…"

"That was
in 
high school
, Katherine. I’m over cheerleaders now."

"But you still date the same type.
Beautiful, perfect, and…"

"Plastic?"

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