Two Times the Trouble (2 page)

He pulled away, panting against her cheek as he wrenched off the T-shirt and worked her tank top up far enough to bare her breasts. “Damn, braless. Do you have any idea how much I love tits?”

She arched against him, rubbing her sensitive nipples on the coarse hair on his chest. “Enough to suck and lick them, I hope.”

“Hell, yeah.” He levered up on his elbows and drew a circle around her puckered tip with his tongue.

She gasped when he fluttered back and forth, sending tremors shooting to every erogenous zone in her body. Moisture flooded her pussy. She moaned and threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him in place. Playing with her own breasts didn’t begin to compare with being touched by a man.

Pulling her nipple into his mouth, he ground his erection into her thigh. She pushed back and hiked her skirt up to her waist. “I want to taste your cock, Liam, and then I want to fuck you.”

He growled, the vibrations radiating through her core. Without releasing her, he climbed off the cot and unbuttoned his jeans. She reached over to help him ease down the zipper. Ragged breath teased her overheated skin. “Whatever you want, honey. You like being on top?”

How was she supposed to answer that question with her total lack of experience? “Shut up and undress.”

His eyes darkened to oceanic blue as he shoved his pants down his legs. His rock-hard dick jutted out, nested in light brown curls and sporting a road map of three-dimensional veins on taut, purplish skin. Leaning toward her, he guided the glistening head toward her mouth. “It’s all yours.”

Happy birthday to me!
She trailed her tongue up his length, following the ridge to the crown and over the drops of pre-cum leaking from the slit. After a quick trip around his cap, she swallowed him. Fighting the gag reflex she’d learned to overcome with her Fillet of Cock dildo, she sucked and scraped her teeth along the steely hardness as she rose to the end again. “Mm. Tasty.”

“Shit, you’re killing me. I’m going to come before I get to be in your pussy if you keep that up.” His hand snaked over her hip and into her panties, pushing them past her ankles. His finger slipped through her juices on the return trip, dipping into cunt. He skated out and over her clitoris.

Shivers rippled through her body, and she hovered on the precipice of pure sensual pleasure. “Right there. Don’t stop!”

He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger while he continued to flick at her clit. “You’re so wet. Are you ready to ride me?”

Her shallow breaths made answering him almost impossible, but she opened her eyes wide and concentrated on the words. “Make me come first, and then I’ll sit on that beautiful dick.”

“Don’t worry. I plan to make you come at least twice. Once now, and once when I’m inside you. Maybe twice if I can last that long. We’re going to play ‘find and conquer the G-spot.’” He withdrew his finger, bringing it to his mouth and sucking her juices from it. “Mm-mm. Time for orgasm number one.”

The second he slicked between her pussy lips, he gave her nipple a squeeze, pushing her over the edge. A wave of utter bliss stole the air from her lungs and drowned her in a rush of satisfaction. She released the scream that had momentarily gotten stuck in her throat.

Liam lifted her by her waist, flopping down on the cot and settling her on his erection in a single graceful movement. “Fuck, you feel good. Fast and hard, honey.”

She sucked in a breath at the sudden fullness, still seeing spots from the recent explosion. Aftershocks shook her, even as she began rocking forward and back. A year of fantasizing with assorted sexual aides didn’t begin to approach the reality of sex with a real man. “Wow. I can feel every inch of you.”

Sliding his palms up her thighs, he took hold of her hips, helping her maintain a steady rhythm. She arched backward toward his legs, adjusting where the head of his cock massaged. Experience told her he’d hit her G-spot if she leaned away from him.

He thrust upward as he guided her forward, and she cried out from the pressure. “Did we find it?”

She let loose with another high-pitched moan when he repeated the action.

“Yeah, honey. Come again. I love watching your face.”

Each collision brought more tension. He swelled, tightening the fit and increasing the friction until every cell exploded. A burst of color flashed in front of her eyes. Euphoria charged through her nerve endings, and her throat ached from the long yell of relief.

He stiffened beneath her. “Ah, God, yes!”

Wet heat flooded her insides as he came. She dropped her head to his chest, certain she was about to melt into a puddle where she lay. His thundering heartbeat echoed in her ear. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her closer than any other person had held her.

He’s The One.
The words came unbidden into her mind. Could she have found her mate?

The hormones humming through her body seemed to have calmed, but she’d been warned not to trust her instincts while under the influence of a fertility cycle. The chemicals skewed a witch’s common sense and logic. Pregnancy was the only proof-positive connection with a true mate, and for that to occur, the parties had to love each other.

Liam couldn’t have gotten her pregnant yet. They had seven more days to achieve that goal, though.

He wiggled beneath her, loosening his hold and rolling her off of him. “Look, the sex was fantastic, but...” Pivoting to sit on the edge of the cot, he lowered his head to hands for several seconds then stood to pull up his jeans and pace the small room. He stopped at the sink, leaning over it with his back to her. A gray muffling cloud surrounded him, negative energy blurring the edges his silhouette. “I’m not interested in a relationship right now. I went through a really bad breakup last year, and...I just can’t, okay? It’s not you.”

Not me?
She wasn’t his One? His brutal rejection soured the sweet afterglow, dousing her hormones, her emotions, and her body in ice water. She straightened her clothes and waited for him to face her. What would she say? What
could
she say?

He turned, his lips pressed together in a grim line. “I’m sorry.”

A laugh bubbled up from her chest, and she scooted to the end of cot closest to the doorway. She pushed to her feet, trying to ignore the semen dribbling down her inner thigh. “Rather presumptuous, aren’t you? What makes you think
I
want anything more than a one-time roll in the hay with
you
?”

His eyes finally met hers, and he frowned. “You shouldn’t sleep with every guy you meet.”

Oh, dear Goddess, the gall of this weasel.
The twinge of hurt morphed into disgust. She shook her head and snorted. “Are you calling me a slut, Mr. Naughty Man-Whore? That’s some self-righteous double standard you have there.”

Color crept up his neck, and he looked down at the cot and blinked. A wet spot had spread across the tan canvas. “Shit, I forgot to use a condom.”

She shrugged. “No worries. You can’t get me pregnant. Oh, and I don’t have any sexually transmitted diseases, either. I hope you can say the same.”

He heaved what she had to assume was a relieved exhale. “I’m clean.”

“Thank goodness for small favors.” Stepping into the aisle of stalls, she glanced over her shoulder. “By the way, you’re trespassing.”

Somehow, she walked out of the barn and to the garden without giving in to her raging temper.
That jackass—The One? Not in this lifetime.
After a quick stop in the herb garden for a basket of fresh parsley, she continued to the rear entrance to her home and set it on the kitchen counter. Her cousin Lujza’s mates nodded a greeting as they prepared a plate of fruit and cheese.

“Hi, guys. How’s Lu this morning? Are the contractions getting any closer?” Jolán grabbed a slice of apple to rid her mouth of the taste of weasel.

Ranulf nodded and pursed his lips. “She is in pain, and she told us to quit smothering her. Her mother suggested we get something to eat and go for a walk.”

They needed a distraction, did they? Jolán had just the errand for them. “Have you checked the security cameras lately? When I went out outside, I saw a strange man near the barn.”

Amalric’s head jerked toward her. “Someone got past the wall and the gate?”

“Yeah. He looked like a big guy.” She lifted her hand to about Ranulf’s nose. The former knight stood six foot four. “About this tall. Your swords ought to scare him off the property and make him think twice about coming back.”

Taking a bit of apple, she headed for her third-floor apartment to enjoy the show.

Nursing his third cup of coffee since arriving at the office, Liam debated calling Romána Macska to withdraw the building contract for the addition to the mansion. He leaned back in the desk chair and clasped his hands behind his head to stare at the ceiling. Did six months of steady income override the awkwardness of seeing the irresistible little nymph who’d rocked his world off its axis this morning?

Jesus, I didn’t even ask her name.
She was right. He deserved the title of man-whore. Having gone almost a year without sex was hardly an acceptable excuse for screwing a complete stranger and basically telling her he’d used her when the deed was done. She’d laughed off his blunt dismissal, but he’d seen the hurt in her expressive brown eyes—if only for a split second before she blew him off. She wasn’t nearly as promiscuous as her sexual acumen suggested.

Not a virgin, but damn close to it.

The connection had been too damn disconcerting. Physically, she pushed all the right buttons. The waist-length, dark brown braid. Her delicate feminine features. Total lack of inhibitions. He could easily picture her running naked through the woods in the pouring rain with a smile on her gorgeous face. She’d laugh and push him to the ground, tearing his clothes off and fucking him until they both—

Best not to go there.

The psychological connection had scared the living hell out of him. She’d made him think of spending the next sixty years with her. He hadn’t had thoughts like that since right before Apryl had dumped his ass for some prick with a Porsche and a seven-figure bank account. Two and a half years of his life wasted on a greedy, unfaithful bitch. He hadn’t found the courage to jump back in the dating pool until today. Not that he’d taken the nymph anywhere but Orgasmville.

How the hell could he look her in the eyes? How could he never see her again?

He rocked forward, his hand hovering over the cell phone on the desk. To call or not to call. The front door slammed, and his heart leapt in his chest.

“Hey, Liam. We better get a move on if we’re going to get the trailer set up out at the Macska estate before lunchtime.” Ivan poked his head in the open doorway. “What the hell happened to you? You get into a fight?”

Using the desk to lever himself to his feet, Liam gave up cancelling the gig. They couldn’t afford to alienate a customer like the Macskas. He stuffed the phone in his pants pocket. “No fight. Why would you think that?”

His business partner grinned and raised his fist. “Looks like somebody punched you in the mouth. Swollen lip. A spot of something red. It sure as hell isn’t lipstick. You haven’t been close enough to a woman for kissing since the tramp got a sugar daddy.”

Running a finger along his lip, Liam tried to hide a reaction to the sting when he bumped a sore spot.
What the fuck? She
bit
me!
His dick twitched. At least the damage hadn’t come from either of the over-six-foot gladiator-type guys that had caught him leaving the barn. He was lucky they hadn’t rearranged his entire face. “Definitely not lipstick. I, um, cut myself shaving. The razor slipped.”

Ivan strolled into their shared office and plopped in one of the client chairs, seeming to buy the explanation. “So, are you ready? I can’t wait for all those free meals. Six months of somebody else’s cooking.”

“Hey, I offered to cook.”

“Is that what you do to the inedible crap you heat in a pan? I’m pretty sure I got food poisoning that time you made macaroni and cheese.” Ivan shuddered. “I thought I was gonna die.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “Fuck you. Let’s go.”

* * * *

Loading the last suitcase into the bed of the company truck, Ivan Janokov spared another glance at Liam. The liar secured the trailer with the second chain to the hitch hooks and shoved the electrical plug into the receiver.

Shaving, my ass.
For the first time in damn near a year, he hadn’t clenched his jaw at the mention of his ex-fiancée. If Ivan didn’t know better, he’d guess his stepbrother had gotten laid sometime between leaving their house at seven thirty and when Ivan had met him in the office at nine fifteen. Even now, Liam seemed distracted. Something had him acting like a crotchety old fart.

Must’ve been a helluva quickie.
Ivan snorted then coughed to disguise his silent jab. “All packed up. You ready?”