Starfire (Erotic Romance) (Peaches Monroe) (21 page)

“You feel as good as you look,” he said.

“Guess my weight and you win a prize.”

He smirked. “Yeah, right! The prize is you punching me in the nuts, no matter what I say.”

“You know me so well.”

“You’re not a number, and neither am I.”

I whispered my weight, in pounds, watching his face for a reaction.

He whispered back, “What a coincidence. That’s what my dick weighs.”

Then he quickly reached down between us, adjusting his allegedly-heavy dick and parting both of our robes, so that it rose up between my legs.

I punched him gently on the shoulder, then lowered my face to his. Our smiling mouths met, and we had one of those giggle-kisses, where your lips don’t quite seal together because you’re laughing through the kiss.

He rocked his hips, and the length of him filled the space between my legs, stroking lengthwise against my pussy. We kissed deeper, our mouths connecting completely, and I started rocking my hips, grinding against him.

We still had our robes on, and for a moment, I felt like we were two teddy bears, mashing each other through our plushy stuffing.

The orgasm that had been so elusive for me was now sharp in my veins, the urgency and desperation cutting me like a knife.

I shifted up and we hesitated for all of a second before I eased down, the tip of his bare cock inside me. I started to shudder, electric all over and desperate for just one more inch. Just a few seconds more, just one more inch. I gasped as he nudged into me, and it felt as if all of my skin was coming together at one point.

At last I snapped, and I was coming, sweet relief flooding my system.

I cried out and hunched forward, rounding my back and burying my face against his shoulder. My muscles clenched and unfurled as wave after wave of ecstasy released.

I slowed, still riding the last waves.

“Oops,” I said, shifting up quickly and pulling his half-inserted cock from me, agonizing though it was.

“I didn’t come,” he said.

I did the math in my head. My period was due any day. Take it from me: the rhythm method is definitely how people get babies, but this particular oops couldn’t have happened at a better time of the month.

“I’m sure we’re fine,” I said, still somewhat breathless. “My cycle is regular, and I should have Aunt Flo on Monday. That’s probably why I’m so frisky right now. Hormones and whatnot.”

He grinned up at me. “I thought I was the one who made you feel this way.”

“You are.” I rolled to the side so I could open both of our robes fully. I rested back down with my body touching his from chest to toe. I rocked my hips, pressing against his hard cock, nestled between our bodies. “I want some more.”

He said, “Grab a condom, you insatiable mermaid.”

“I will this time, but we need more convenient birth control soon.”

He blinked up at me. “I’ve been tested for everything, in preparation for marriage.”

“Me, too, a while back. And I usually play safe, this evening the surprising exception.”

He slipped his hands around to my buttocks and squeezed the flesh. “How am I still so hard, despite this unsexy conversation?”

“You’re my stud-pony, my Lionheart.”

I scrambled off him and started hunting around for the condoms he’d mentioned. “You’re getting colder,” he said as I hunted around the pile of clothes on the floor. “Warmer,” he said as I stepped back.

We played the hotter-colder kids’ game until I found the pack. I tossed off my robe and climbed up onto the bed, where I pretended to not know where his cock was. “I roll the condom on here?” I asked as I grabbed first one of his big toes and then the other. We played the hotter-colder game for a while, and I finally found the right appendage, but only after sucking on various body parts.

With the appropriate preparations in place, I climbed on top, straddling him on my knees with my hands on his chest, and we fucked until I came again, and he did, too.

When we were finished, we cuddled together on the bed and bickered over which one of us was going to get out of bed, cross the room, and turn off the standing lamp.

The last thing I remembered before I fell asleep was him combing his fingers through my hair and saying it was the most beautiful hair in the world. “You should wear it twirled up in a twisty thing for the wedding,” he said.

“A bun? A chignon?”

“Twisty thing,” he repeated sleepily, and he rubbed his fingertips against my scalp. “Such pretty, pretty hair.”

CHAPTER 20

I woke up to the sound of Dalton talking to another man in the adjoining room.

The fancy hotel suite was similar to an apartment, with the bed in its own room with double doors, and the hallway door opening to a living space with sofas and tables. The double doors were only open a crack, but once I was awake, I could hear them clearly.

The man thanked Dalton, then the suite’s door opened and closed. Dishes clinked. The double doors to the bedroom opened and a rolling tray entered. I could smell both bacon and coffee, though everything was covered in gleaming, metal domes.

Dalton wore a pair of blue jeans, and no shirt. His usually-bare chest had the stubble of some hairs I hadn’t noticed before. Sometimes you have to see someone a bunch of times before you see everything.

“I got your mocha,” he said. “They didn’t have Pop Tarts, though, so will blueberry pancakes be nearly as good?”

I sat up, holding the sheet across my breasts for modesty in the bright morning light. He’d opened the curtains and the room was gleaming with the promise of a mostly sunny day, with just a touch of the famous San Francisco fog over the harbor.

“How did you know about my Pop Tarts?”

“The first night you were staying at my house in LA, you gave me heck for not having Normal People Food.”

“Right.” I climbed out of bed just long enough to grab a T-shirt and panties from my suitcase and slip them on before climbing back into bed. “Your house is really great, by the way. I was impressed. Especially when I came over to get my computer, and you turned on those crazy fans. You were acting so weird.”

“Me?” He lifted the domes off the food. “You were fucking my look-alike. How was that not supposed to make me crazy? And you brought Carter Crow into my house.”

“Keith Raven.”

Scowling, he stood near the foot of the bed, picking at the fruit tray. “That guy wasn’t right for you.”

My stomach pitched uneasily, and I regretted bringing up Keith, especially mentioning his name.

“He’s out of my life now,” I said.

“Was it just physical?”

I held my hands out. “Duh.”

He got a smug look I didn’t like at all, with a twisted grin. “Fair’s fair.”

“What do you mean? Did you hook up with someone, too?”

“Would you have a problem if I did?”

“No, but
you
might.”

He raised his eyebrow at me, but kept on eating strawberries, standing near the foot of the bed and looking like the devil himself.

I took a deep breath and let out an audible sigh. “I’m a hypocrite. Whatever or whomever you did, so long as it’s in the past and nobody I know, it’s fine.”

He didn’t say anything.

My insides started to hurt. I narrowed my eyes at him, squinting like I had a superpower for reading his mind, and
maybe I did
, because I knew, without a doubt, that he’d fucked someone we both knew.

“Who?” I asked.

“It was just physical,” he said.

I grabbed a pillow from beside me and hugged it to my chest. “Who? Just tell me and get it over with. Alexis?”

He stuck his tongue out in disgust. “Ew, no. She’s like a sister to me.”

“Golden?” As I asked, I imagined the two of them fucking in the back of his car after getting milkshakes, and I was filled with murderous rage.

“Of course not. She’s dating your other boyfriend, remember?”

“Yeah.”

“Plus she’s not my type.”

“I know!” I exclaimed, feeling better instantly. “Brooke Summer, that copper-haired reporter skank. You totally boned her. Hah! I hope you broke her heart.”

“Brooke? No, not exactly. By which I mean not at all.” He waggled a finger at me. “Interesting reaction on your part, though.”

He began to pace the room, still shirtless. As I looked at his body and face in motion, I felt a buzz of excitement from Miss Kitty. I didn’t care so much about where he’d been, but about where he was going to be… in the next five minutes.

Maybe he hadn’t fucked anyone I knew, and this was just one of his games.

“Stop teasing and get in this bed,” I said.

He paused, then walked over and sat down next to me.

I grabbed the button of his jeans and started unfastening it.

“I took Justine out for drinks a few times,” he said.

“Who?”

“She was your stand-in for the TV commercial. Pretty girl. Curvy. Blonde.”

I finished unbuttoning his jeans and pulled my hands away.

Whispering, I said, “You fucked her to get back at me.”

“And I broke her heart.”

“Are you going to break mine?”

“Probably,” he said.

Without thinking, I reached up and slapped his face.

He rubbed his cheek, but didn’t take his eyes off me as he reached down and removed his jeans and underwear.

“Is that what a real woman does?” he asked. “Slap a guy when he tells her the truth?”

I hauled off and slapped the other cheek.

“Get on your knees,” he said.

“You motherfucking vampire sociopath.”

He kept staring at me, his green eyes intense. My pussy was buzzing like an angry hornet’s nest.

“Roll over,” he said slowly. “Get on your knees and yank your panties down.”

Trembling and buzzing, I did as he ordered. I got on my hands and knees on the bed, and I tugged my panties down.

He moved in behind me and plunged two fingers into my aching pussy, wetting them quickly. Next, I felt the head of his cock between my cheeks, up high, the door above the one where babies get made. He rubbed his fingers along my pussy, in and out, then drew the slickness onto his cock.

I gasped as he plunged in, filling me. My pussy was hot and clinching as he slid in and out of my ass, tight around his hard dick. His hands gripped and held on tight to my hips as I moaned in pleasure and angled to receive him deeper and deeper.

I bucked against him, urging him on, harder and faster. His body slapped against my flesh, and he pounded my ass like the man of my dreams, made real.

My hand was damp with sweat, and so was his as I guided his arm around and down to my clit. He scarcely grazed the nub, and I started to come, getting banged from front and back, moaning like a whore.

With a few more thrusts, I exploded in a wet, gushing orgasm, running down my leg. He grunted a few swear words, then pulled out and spurted hot come across my back.

I slowly reached for a pillow and held it to my chest as I eased back down to the bed, lying on my stomach. He couldn’t see my face, but I mouthed a word: wow.

He cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything.

And what do you say, exactly, after something like that?

He got off the bed and grabbed a handful of tissues, then cleaned up my back.

“There’s some in your hair,” he said softly.

“I guess I’ll take a shower.”

He cleared his throat again. “I’ll go run the water.”

He left for the bathroom, and I grabbed some more tissues to get the fluid from between my legs. By now, my little gush had happened enough that it wasn’t such a shock anymore. Sex is messy, and what’s wrong with a little extra juice? Dalton didn’t seem to have noticed.

I walked into the bathroom and joined him in the spacious shower. “Our breakfast is getting cold,” I said.

He nodded and stepped aside so I could have a turn under the largest sprayer in the multi-spray shower.

“We’ll have a bite, then flower shopping,” he said.

“Flower shopping? So, we’re not going to talk about the nasty things we said to each other a few minutes ago?”

“I think we both got a lot off our chests.” At the mention of
chests
, his gaze went to my breasts, and he began to lather them up with the soap in his hands.

“Did you pull that little trick with Justine? Telling her to get on her knees and yank down her panties?”

“Why don’t you tell me what you did with Keith? Did you suck his cock and tell him he was so big, he was choking you?”

“Please. Too big for this mouth?”

He backed me up against the marble wall of the shower and kissed me hard, our teeth clinking. He was already getting hard again, pressing against my stomach.

“That mouth of yours,” he murmured. “I want it wrapped around my dick.”

“Stop saying dick, and it might happen.”

“Dick,” he repeated, thrusting it against my body.

“Shut up.” I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him down to kiss me.

We kissed for a few minutes, his cock growing more demanding and hard.

I got down on my knees under the warm water, and I gazed up at him, from his muscular abs and chest to his gorgeous, famous face.

What was going on with us? The night before, I had encouraged him to
break me
, and now, it seemed to be happening. There’s something so scary about getting exactly what you ask for.

I grabbed hold of his cock, and I didn’t just suck it. I fucking
worshipped
it.

~

After the shower, we steered the food trolley over to the round dining table in the front room, and quietly ate the now-cool breakfast. Dalton offered to order up more food, or take me out, but cold food was better than waiting.

My mocha tasted like a regular coffee, then I found all the syrup at the bottom, in one surprising slurp. (Ah, the unmixed beverage. The bane of the mocha drinker.)

Dalton did a funny thing before he got dressed. He took five pairs of pants out of his suitcase (why he’d brought five pairs for a weekend stay was anyone’s guess) and he smoothed them all out flat on the bed. He took out five shirts and did the same with them, pairing them up with the jeans, then mixing and matching.