Shayla's Story (The Mathews/Clemmins Family Series) (9 page)

A fevered rush ached
through her trembling body. “Not normally.”
 

Her hands stole at
the open waist of his jeans. Strung tight with pleasure, she craved more,
tugging at the belt loops with her toes. She needed to feel him inside her.
“Take these off,” she demanded in a voice sounding unlike her own.

John stood at the
edge of the bed and undressed.

Shayla had never
seen a man look so damned appealing. Reaching for his wallet, he dug for a
condom. Holding the golden foil between his fingers, he warned apologetically,
“I only have one.” He grinned with a squint. “We’ll have to be creative until
tomorrow.”

She could barely hear
anything over the blood rhythm pounding in her ears.

He chuckled tilting
his head into her view. “Did you hear me?”

She blinked with a
tiny nod. “Creative.”

John gently gripped
her foot, coasting his hand up her leg and urging her onto her front.

Shayla flinched with
a squeal when he playfully bit her cheek. She felt the moist heat coming in
ragged breaths as he kissed and nibbled up her spine to her shoulder.

He laid on top her,
molding his body to hers, resting his hard-on between her thighs.

“You feel so good.”
She twisted, reaching around the back of his neck, tugging his mouth to hers.
Hungry kisses made her whimper with need.

She couldn’t get
close enough to him. This man could easily control her with his solid strength
and power, yet she had never felt so unbelievably free. Free to be herself.
Free to explore a sensual side of her that lay beneath the surface.

Shayla shoved at him
until he rolled to his back. Keeping her gaze locked on his, she slid down his
taunt abs, one muscle at a time. She grabbed hold of his hard-sprung length,
stroked out a slick bead of moisture and lowered her mouth to taste him,
briefly, before lifting her head and wiggling her brows.

His body strained
and he gripped the linens, letting a few swear words fly.

“We have all night,
remember?” she toyed, enjoying his reaction and nodding toward the condom. “I
think I have one of those in my necessity bag.”

She went down,
taking as much as she could into the suction of her mouth.

He groaned within
seconds. “Shit. Wait, stop. I can’t…”

Candidly, she smiled
up at him, circling her tongue around the pulsing head.

A scowl wedged
between his brows. He tugged at her, dragging her up his body so they lay
eye-to-eye. “You have a necessity bag?”

“Yeah, necessities.
Mostly girl stuff. Chapstick, floss, tamp—”

He grabbed her and a
laugh of delight whooshed from her lungs as their bodies entwined, tumbling
over the bed. John halted over the top of her, fumbling with the foil. He
lowered onto his elbows, gently teasing, rubbing and stroking against her clit.
Driven by voluptuous jolts of thunder, Shayla wiggled and strained, needing to
feel him inside her. Hoarse from heavy breathing, she begged in a voice unlike
her own. “Please. Now.”

John eased into her
with a measured thrust, giving her time to adjust before burying himself inside
her. She cradled his jaw, watching as his eyes turned cloudy with pleasure and
color burnished high on his cheeks. He plunged deeper and she raised her knees,
planting her feet on the mattress, surrounding him with tight lubricous
reception. He impaled further, rooting out a tender spot that made her cry out
his name.

John buried his face
near her ear. “Say it, Shay. Say it again,” he murmured, his mouth wandering
over her throat.

Excitement climbed higher
in her throat as he thrust in perfect stride. She jerked and clawed at the
solid muscles on either side of his spine, burying her face in the crook of his
arm, calling out his name.
 

He covered her mouth
with his, taking in her cries of sheer bliss. Elevating to his palms, John
collected each of her wrists, placing them one at a time above her head,
plunging into her with tireless rhythm until her eyes rolled back. John
continued, driving the momentum higher and higher. She jerked and spasmed in a
kaleidoscope of colors, thrusting upward to greet him. She surrendered, giving
into his powerful virility. Shayla shuddered again and again, peaking in
multiples. With one last thrust, he quivered and groaned with his own release.

The sound of their
raspy pants filled the space between them. Shocked by the slick of tears
running from the edge of her eyes, she held him close, nuzzling into his chest.

John nipped at her
chin, bushing kisses over her jaw, cheeks and eyelids. Clasping his hand at the
side of her neck, he wiped away the wetness with his thumb, peering deep into
her eyes. They remained that way for minutes, just staring affectionately at
each other, allowing themselves to revel in the tender moment.

A small smiled
curved at the corner of his mouth and Shayla smiled back.

“What?” she asked
bashfully.

John kissed her
nose. “Wonder Woman,” he teased, pulling her to her feet, directing her to the
shower.

“Superman.” She
giggled, glancing over her shoulder, letting her gaze drink in his delicious
body.

He flipped the
switch, illuminating the pristine bathroom with a soft glow. White marble ran
its course throughout the bathroom and walk-in shower, bordered with intricate
hand-blown blue glass tiles. He pulled on three levers, adjusting the
temperature of the showerheads. John nodded, glancing around the pristine
bathroom in astonishment. “This place is amazing.”

Shayla touched her
fingers to the pale grey granite counter, tracing the rim of the white vessel
sink. “This is his vacation home. His place in Malibu is even…more incredible.”

Curiosity drifted
through her mind, imagining what John’s place would be like. The throbbing
pulse in her neck ached and she wondered if she’d get to see it. She wouldn’t
allow herself to indulge in too many questions about the future, fearing it’d
ruin the moment.

John escorted her
into the layers of steam and shut the glass door. He stood behind her, kissing
the sensitive dip in her neck. “I don’t think anything could be more incredible
than this.”

Tilting her head
back onto his sleek chest, she allowed sheets of cascading hot water to stream
over them. Turning into his arms, she draped her wrists over his shoulders,
kissing him beneath the rain of water.

His bare form showed
off a threatening and well-exercised strength, but he exuded a sense of power
that made her feel safe.

He shampooed her
hair and washed her body and she did the same to him. His hands roamed over her
body, not missing a single spot. She found herself mesmerized by his glistening
skin and the curve of each moving muscle.

“How much time do
you spend at the gym?” The bemused question slipped out as if she were thinking
out loud in awe.

A drone of a chuckle
escaped his lungs as he bent, clasping hold of her foot then the other, giving
them a thorough scrub. In a macho show of bravado, John flexed posing in
several bodybuilding positions. “Not as much as you think. Most of it is
genetics, but I do enjoy a good workout.”

“Am I a good
workout?” She attempted to act flippant and unimpressed at his good-humored
show, but her heart slammed so violently as she took in the splendor.

He tugged her into
his chest. The length of their bodies molded together as he wriggled back and
forth. He playfully washed her body with his. “You’re the best workout I’ve
ever had and we just barely made it through warm up.”

She could hardly
hear his mock whispers over the blood surging through her veins. Subtle aches
pulsed, desire building with the slippery friction of their skin.

She twisted,
searching for his mouth, drinking in his luscious kisses.

He reached between
her thighs and she went still, slumping and resting her cheek on his torso. A
veil of steam clouded the air around them. She held onto his flexing bicep, her
lip dragging on his shoulder as he stroked her open.

Gently, he slipped
his thick fingers deep and held. Her tender soreness turned to pleasure as he
started a slow in and out slide. Trembling, she cupped her hand at his nape
holding securely. John messaged her tender flesh with his thumb, pushing deeper
with an infinite, wicked rhythm, the skilled combination unlike any bliss she’d
ever known.

Excitement climbed
higher in each of their soft moans, filtering sounds of joyful lust through the
mist. Clenching around his fingers, she shuddered against his shoulder, peaking
in jolts of delicious ecstasy.

Withdrawing his
fingers, he secured her tightly in his embrace. He turned off the water,
urgency riddling his tone informing, “We’re moving to your room.”

In between at least
a dozen heat-filled, full-mouth, luscious kisses she could only best describe
as the most erotic thing she’d experienced in her life, they managed to quietly
relocate to her bedroom without waking anyone.

They sat naked,
Indian style on her bed, sharing a bottle of wine. Kissing took on an entirely
different role, feeling more like an actual sex act instead of foreplay. They
talked and laughed and made love again.

Curling up beside
him, happy and sedated in his arms, Shayla drifted off to sleep.

He woke her when the
early morning sun filtered into the room.

“Shay,” he
whispered. Pressing a kiss near her temple, he stroked her arm, his fingers
playing across her skin. “I should go. JC wakes up at the crack of dawn every
day.”

Her brows pulled
tight in protest and she snuggled closer, nuzzling deeper into the crook of his
arm.

He rolled over on
top of her, nibbling on her neck until she giggled. He climbed out of bed and
got dressed. “Go back to sleep for a while. I’ll make breakfast for everyone in
a couple hours.”

“You cook?” she
asked with a sleepy smile.

“A little.” He
cracked open the door, peeking into the hallway. John wiggled his eyebrows and
came back to her side. He tugged on the sheet, exposing the tight bud of her
nipple, bending and drawing it into the warmth of his mouth. “Don’t get too
excited. Everyone will know how much you
really
like me.”

Shayla pushed the
sheet to her waist, exposing her other breast. “Hey, don’t forget this one.”

She giggled in a
hush, raking her fingers through his hair as he nibbled on the pale skin.

He pulled back,
releasing the delicate skin, pursing his lips to blow on the bud. Heat built in
his gaze as her skin tightened, darkening the delicate pink to rosy red.

“I gotta go, Shay,
otherwise everyone is gonna know we spent the night together.”

John kissed her on
the lips and slipped out her bedroom door.

Shayla pulled the
silky bedding under her chin and stared at the ceiling. She felt as if she’d
been branded, marked as his. No matter how she tried to cover the stains of
sheer bliss and guilt, everyone would see it.

Despite all the
worry and guilt she should have felt for having sex with John, Shayla couldn’t
help but enjoy the happy and calmness inside. Her phone blinked green, but it
was Carrie Ann reminding her to have fun while in Greece. Mat hadn’t called,
and somewhere deep down, Shayla knew he wouldn’t. After a lengthy conversation
with herself, she decided to make the absolute most of the weekend.

Shayla attempted to
conceal the
I’ve just had the most
incredible night of my life
look covering her head to toe. She couldn’t
wipe the smile from her face, or conceal the dark circles from under eyes and chapped
skin surrounding her mouth. Sounds of low music and happy voices wandered
through the halls of the traditionally quiet house. With each step down the
hallway, a new ache or sore muscle reminded her of various positions John
arranged her in the night before. Heat rose to her cheeks as she eased her way
toward the kitchen, listening for John’s voice. Her nerves settled when she
found only Tracy and JC.

Wedding talk and a
buzz of ceremonial excitement filled the kitchen. The girls moved in unison,
making coffee and cutting up fresh fruit, humming and singing, “Going to the chapel
and we’re gonna get married.” Shayla felt like a third wheel for a millisecond,
but Tracy and JC quickly added her into the conversation. Their close family
dynamics made her feel like a favorite long distance cousin, the relative they
hadn’t seen for years, but instantly reconnected with like it was yesterday.
Besides her uncle, Shayla had only experienced this kind of immediate
connection with one other person, Carrie Ann.

Tracy moseyed into
the living room, gazing out at the picturesque view. White house’s molded into
the black cliffs on the adjacent side of the bay, ignited with a hue of
tangerine color from the morning sun. Shayla stood at the counter, plunging a
tea bag into a boiling cup of water until steam rose with a minty aroma.

JC made a cup of
coffee for her sister, and they joined Tracy, stepping out onto the back patio.

The girls’
enthusiasm grew with anticipation of the day’s wedding.

JC’s eyes lit up, glowing
the same emerald green as her brothers. “I haven’t had my hair and make-up done
by someone since I went to my prom.”

“I’ve never had my
make-up done by anyone. I’m kind of excited,” Tracy admitted.

Warming her cool
fingers on the mug, Shayla took a careful sip of hot tea. “Thank goodness for
Marco and Rick. I hate doing my own hair.”

The sound of the
front door opening and closing captured their attention. All three turned to
see who was up. John walked through the front door wearing a big smile, dark
jeans and a white linen shirt, unbuttoned to the center of his chest.

Tracy and JC
exchanged casual good mornings, but Shayla could only stare, her heart pumping
in painful beats. Their eyes connected and his grin broadened, raising chill
bumps over every inch of her skin. He strolled to the open sliding glass doors,
and even though sunglasses hid his gaze from her sight, Shayla felt his fixed
stare burning through her like the strike of a match.

Car keys dangled
from his fingers. “Morning. It’s a beautiful day for a wedding.”

He’d turned to
Shayla when he said beautiful.

Tracy asked in
surprise, “Where have you been so early this morning?”

“The market.” His
sisters’ attention already returned to the gorgeous view hovering beyond the
infinity pool. He locked eyes with Shayla. “I needed to pick up a few necessities.”

Shayla buried her
feverish grin in the rim of her cup and John disappeared into the house, sounds
of his footsteps fading down the flagstone hall. Thrilled for their mom to have
found love again, Tracy and JC rambled on about the day’s events about to
unfold.

Though Shayla was
overjoyed her uncle had finally found the women of his dreams, the only one
thing she could think of was how many minutes she should wait before following
John inside.
Two is plenty.
She
excused herself without notice.

Making a conscious
effort not to run, she paced through the house and down the hall. John’s door
was open, so she tiptoed inside, shutting it behind her. Ambling out the
bathroom door, John smiled. He walked straight to her, wrapping an arm behind
the small of her back.

Shayla arched,
molding her body to his.

“Do you have any
idea how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you?” John raked his strong
fingers through her messy morning hair. Cradling and caressing the back of her
head, he gazed amorously into her face with a slow, intense burn of hunger.

“Yes, I do.” Shayla
went slack in his arms as if she’d been drugged, savoring the molded linkage of
their bodies combined as one. Draping her arms over his shoulders, she relished
in the heat of his neck.

“You are so
handsome,” Shayla whispered in a quiet breath. Her fingers trembled, studying
the indention of his small scar with the pad of her thumb.

He bent, covering
her mouth with a slow delicious kiss, sweet enough to make her toes curl.
Lifting his head, he pressed soft kisses on her nose and eyelids before staring
at her with a grin tucked in the corner of his mouth. “I’ve been trying to
decide what color your eyes are. At first I thought they were blue.”

Taking further
inspection, he cradled her jaw and twisted her face toward the sunshine casting
through his window. “But they also have these long threads of green and dark
brown outlined in a honey color. Just beautiful.”

 
She raised her lips and John responded
with a quick peck on her lips. Shayla frowned wanting more. She heeded a sensual
promise, “You are gonna be in so much trouble later.”

“What kind of
trouble? Cause if it’s the kind of trouble that involves you…well, you might as
well throw my ass in jail.” He wiggled his brows, nibbling on her neck, causing
Shayla to squeal in delight. “But right now, if I don’t get into the kitchen in
a few minutes my sisters are gonna come looking for me. They already put in
orders for my famous banana pancakes.”

Shayla dropped her
arms from his neck and started for the door.

John caught her
around the waist from behind, pulling her in close. His hand traversed the
front of her body, fondling and gripping, as his other hand swept the hair from
her neck. She tilted her head, exposing her neck. His soft nibbles turned
hungry. He tilted his hips, rubbing his erection against the small of her back.
He grasped her tighter, murmuring next to the sensitive skin behind her ear.
“You make me so hard.”

She clutched his
forearm, transfixed by the feeling of his muscles moving beneath her fingers.
Pushing her hips backward, she twisted her neck, aggressively hunting for his
mouth. She felt him smile against the slope of her neck.

Memories of the
night before sparked like the flash of fireflies on a hot Kentucky summer
night. She only wanted his lips on hers. Shayla slung her arms over his firm
shoulders, kissing his mouth with bruising force. Her breath came in hard pants
as his mouth moved over hers, the sweet taste almost too good to bear. The
slippery friction was so intense her lower stomach muscles clenched and coiled
with need.

Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Hey, are you gonna make breakfast? Or do
you want me to make pancakes?” Tracy issued in more of a warning than a
question.

Without making a
sound, John backed away from the door, inhaling deep to catch his breath. “Be
out in a minute.”

“We just woke up Mom
and Tom, so everybody’s ready.”

“Okay. I’ll be right
there.” He stroked down her spine, soothing her trembling body as she rested
her cheek on his shoulder. Waiting for Tracy to move away from the door, he
whispered, “You okay?”

Unsure of her
answer, she remained silent, quivering in his arms as he set her feet on the
floor. Shayla had several boyfriends over the years, but nothing had ever felt
this good. John’s kisses required full surrender of the moment, leaving her unable
to put a coherent sentence together. John peered down, cupping her face in his
hands, getting a read on her until she forced her herself to look at him.

“I’m okay,” she
snickered softly, dazed by her own reaction. “Good lord, you’re a good kisser.”

She wobbled and he
caught her by the elbows. “Do you always kiss like...”

Her words trailed
off into a muttering tongue-tied mess as she paced back and forth, wafting her
hands through the air exaggeratedly. “I’m surprised you don’t have women
following behind you like a trail of breadcrumbs. You probably have women lined
up around the block for dates. Two blocks. You’re just so…yummy.”

“I don’t have anyone
lined up back home.” He laughed at her with endearing amusement then said
softly, “And you haven’t even tasted me…yet.”

Her mouth fell open.
She was stunned by the heated, somewhat crude, promise and even further
surprised by her body’s throbbing, wet reaction. Shayla started to say
something, but every last one of her brain cells had just been fried. Her brows
furrowed together in a tight knit, and her lip twitched. Flustered, she started
for the door, stopping to poke him in the chest with a low grumble. “Oh, you
are gonna be in so much trouble later.”

“You don’t know what
trouble is.” John’s arms tightened around her from behind. He growled playfully
at the ticklish spot behind her ear. “When this wedding is over, I’m going to
take you back to the hotel. Hell, you’ll be lucky if you make it to the car.”

Relinquishing his
hold, John cleared his throat and opened the door. John patted her on the
bottom, gradually guiding her out of his room. “The coast is clear. Go get
ready for breakfast.”

“Okay.”

Pointing his finger
at her mid section, he teased in a hushed mocking tone as she hurried toward
her room. “But don’t you dare sneak off into your room and take care of
yourself. You’d better wait for me.”

A rush of heat
crawled over her from head to toe. She beamed back at him with a smile so big
her cheeks hurt as she slipped into her room.

Not even bothering
to see if her phone blinked green, she flopped straight back onto her bed. Her
feet wagged back and forth, keeping the pace of windshield wipers in a
torrential downpour of emotions. She tried to compartmentalize her euphoric
high into nice little categories of feelings, but it was impossible. Blissfully
happy, calm and content, and turned on would be an understatement.

John’s gorgeous good
looks were just what lay on the surface. “He’s so much more,” she whispered
aloud. “He’s adventurous, and the manliest man I’ve laid my hands on.”

 
He sported an ego matching many men she
knew climbing to the top in the film industry, only he carried it in such an
endearing manner. As she stared at the white ceiling, curiosities saturated her
thoughts, wondering what he’d be like in his own element.

A vision of him
sweaty and dirty after a hard days work popped into her mind. Her lids closed
with a slight eye roll as she drummed her fingers on her stomach. She could
practically taste the salt on his skin and glimpse the sun-baked, hard-worked
muscles.

“Oh, my God and he’s
so much fun.” Her eyes popped open and she jumped to her feet, giggling to
herself. She picked up her phone, wondering if she should call Carrie Ann.
Staring down at the black device, she shook her head and placed it back on the
nightstand. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s making breakfast. Get your ass in the
kitchen.”

Breakfast was in
full swing. Shayla opted to keep a safe distance from John and eased onto a
barstool at the counter. The man oozed enough sex appeal to cause a traffic jam
in a snug fitting white T-shirt and lightweight grey sweat pants. Simply
glancing at his long tan feet triggered imploring thoughts. Every time he
turned to smile at her, he caught her inspecting his narrow waist and perfectly
formed ass.

His muscles flexed
and relaxed with each flip of a pancake, causing her to squirm in her seat.
John winked at her several times before asking for her to assist him.

Shayla remained
glued to the solid wrought iron chair, terrified to get too close to him. But
with one tiny pleading glimpse of his brilliant green eyes, she found herself
at his side.

His warm smile and
spicy male scent traveled along every nerve ending, turning her giddy. Shayla
consciously struggled to keep her hands off him. He didn’t make it easy and
took far too much pleasure in torturing her. He purposely touched her with
light, sensual brushes of his hands. He nonchalantly snuggled close to her ear
with heated instructions, even going as far as nipple grazing her three times.
Her insides felt like an out of control wildfire, burning so hot, her face felt
sunburned.

John playfully
savored her anguish, secretly torturing her throughout the entire morning meal
in front of their families. Everyone vanished when he offered to clean up,
leaving just the two of them in the kitchen. Standing at the sink, getting
ready to wash the last dish, he dipped his finger in the sauté pan of warm
homemade blueberry topping, offering it to her. Shayla wrapped her tongue
around his finger, drawing it deep into her mouth and massaging it with her
tongue. His humor faded. John’s jaw fell slack and his lips parted with the
slightest hint of a moan.