WMIS 03 Play With Me (8 page)

“I’m
going to kiss you,” he whispers.

“It’s
about time,” I whisper back. He grins and kisses my forehead, down to my nose,
over to the dimple in my cheek, and then lays those lips on mine, resting them
there, for just a second, and then he starts to move. Those amazing lips nibble
mine, and finally his tongue licks my bottom lip and leisurely makes love to my
own, dancing and twirling, gently exploring me.

This
is so different from when he kissed me at the party. This is intimate and
tender. I love both sides to him, and can’t wait to learn more about him.

I
push my fingers up into his hair and moan contentedly as he continues the soft
assault on my mouth.

He
pulls back slightly, breathing hard, his eyes on fire. “I wouldn’t mind kissing
your lips all fucking day.”

“I
wouldn’t mind that either,” I murmur and grin at him.

“I
hate your rule, you know.”

“I
kind of hate it right now, too,” I admit and chuckle.

“You’re
worth it.” He runs his knuckles down my cheek. “Hey, what happened to the
pink?”

I
frown at the change of subject, not understanding what he means and then I
remember; my hair. “It’s not permanent. It’s this hair chalk stuff that I can
paint my hair with, and then it washes out.”

“Oh,
that’s cool.” His hand glides up my thigh again, under my dress and I sigh.
When he gets up to my hip, his eyes widen in surprise. “You’re not wearing any
underwear?”

“I
rarely do.” I shrug.

“So,
no pajamas and no underwear.” He swallows hard, clenches his eyes shut, and
swears under his breath. His hand has stilled on my hip like he’s afraid to
move it.

Maybe
my rule is stupid.

Maybe
it would be okay to break the rule, just this once. He’s already told me that
he wants to pursue something more than just sex with me, and isn’t that the
point of the rule anyway?

He
opens his eyes and gazes down at me, and smiles gently. I brush my fingers
through his hair, then cup the nape of his neck and pull him down to me. I
nuzzle his nose and kiss him chastely.

“Touch
me,” I whisper.

He
pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, and sighs deeply.

“I
won’t be able to stop.”

“So
don’t stop.” I grin at him and he glares at me, making me laugh.

“You
can’t change the rules, Meg.”

“Why
not? It was my rule.”

“Because,
you’ll resent me for it later.” His hand clenches on my hip for just a brief
second, and then glides back down my thigh.

Okay,
he’s going to be all gentlemanly. Damn him.

“Will,”
I whisper and kiss him again.

“Yeah.”

“I
really need you to touch me.”
God, please touch me.

In
one large, smooth move, his hand glides up my thigh, over my ass, to my back
and back down again. I groan and push my hands under his shirt, running my
hands over his smooth, warm skin.

“Can
I take your dress off?” he asks.

“Yes,
please.”

It’s
dark in the living room now, the only light coming from the glow of the muted
television. He sits up and pushes me to my feet before him, grips the hem of my
dress and pulls it over my head and tosses it on the floor. He sucks in a loud
breath and his deep blue eyes are hot as he looks me up and down from my hair,
down my black-bra covered chest, my stomach, waxed pubis and legs, and then
they travel back up again and find my own eyes.

“Take
your bra off,” he murmurs.

I
comply and throw it on top of the dress.

“Dear
God, Megan, you’re beautiful.”

I
grin down at him and suddenly he pulls me down into his lap and cups a breast
in his palm as he kisses me senseless. I trace the muscles in his shoulder with
one hand and bury the other in his hair and hold him close to me while his
hands roam over my sensitive body.

God,
his hands feel so damn good!

Finally,
he trails kisses along my jaw and over to my neck where he pays extra-special
attention as his hand travels oh-so-slowly south.

“I
knew you felt good, and I knew you’d look fantastic, but you surpass every
fantasy I’ve had about you, sweetheart.”

“Hmm.
I want to see you,” I mutter but he shakes his head and chuckles.

“Not
yet. This is about you, honey.”

I
start to protest, but then those magical fingers slip down over my pubis and
find my center and everything in Will, those fingers, his breath, even his
heart, still.

“What
is this?” He pulls back and stares down at me in awe.

Oh,
that.

“It’s
a piercing,” I respond and lean up to kiss him again but he pulls back and his
eyes narrow.

“Your
clit is pierced?” he asks incredulously.

“No,
technically, my clitoral hood is pierced.”

“Fuck,
I have to see this.” He stands abruptly with me in his arms, and just when I
think he’s finally going to take me up to my bedroom, he lays me gently down on
the couch. He turns off the TV, but flips on a soft lamp and kneels on the
floor next to my head.

“You’re
amazing, you know that, right?” He kisses me softly, gently teasing my tongue
with his, and then nibbles his way down my jaw again to my ear and down my neck
to my collar bones.

“Will,”
I grip his shirt in my fists and try to pull it over his head but he backs
away.

“Honey,
I can’t get naked.” He swallows and shakes his head. “I can’t. We’re going to
respect your goddamn three date rule, but I want to explore you a bit. Is that
okay?”

“Okay,”
I whisper and he smiles wickedly.

“Just
lay back and enjoy.” He captures a nipple in his mouth and suckles it gently at
first and then a bit harder, making me moan. His hands are
everywhere
.
Brushing up and down my ribs, down my thighs, and up again. Finally, after he
pays special attention to the other nipple, he begins to gently bite, suck and
nibble his way down my stomach as his hand glides up the inside of my thigh.

“Will…”

“Shh,
it’s okay.”

He
spreads my legs and sits there, just looking down at my center, and I suddenly
become very shy.

“Turn
the light off,” I whisper.

His
eyes find mine. His face is tight with lust, his eyes bright, and his jaw
ticking from clenching his jaw shut.

“Not
a chance,” he growls. “I want to see you. Fuck, Meg, you’re so sexy.”

He
settles on his elbows and gently brushes my piercing with his fingertip. It
makes my back arch and catch my breath.

“Shit.”

“How
long have you had this?” he asks.

“Five
years.”

“Why?”
he asks and brushes it with his thumb while his fingers slide through my wet
lips and I gasp again. “God, you’re so wet.”

“I
was in a band, people had piercings, I didn’t want mine to show.” The words
come out super-fast because of what he’s doing to me and he chuckles.

“Does
it heighten pleasure?” he asks and I swear again as he barely brushes the
little bar-bell and it sets my clit on fire.

“What
do you think?” Fuck, I can’t stop moving.

“It’s
tiny,” he remarks.

“It’s
a tiny part of my body,” I remind him ruefully and then squirm again as he
brushes it one more time with his finger.

Will
kisses my navel, and I push my hands into his hair. He moves down and gently
wraps those amazing lips around my clit and metal and I come undone, pushing
against his mouth, raising my hips up off the cushion. His hands are cupping my
ass, holding me against him and I ride my orgasm, jerking and shuddering, and
suddenly his lips move farther down and his tongue is inside me, then licking
my labia, and inside me again. It’s a full-on assault Will-style, and it’s the
most amazing fucking thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.

He
sinks his tongue inside me again and pulls one hand around to worry my clit
some more and I feel another orgasm building.

“Ah,
hell, babe, I’m gonna…”

He
growls against me and I lose it, this orgasm completely eclipsing the last one,
if that’s even possible.

When
I surface, Will is nibbling his way back up my body, caressing my skin gently,
and then he’s kissing me softly and his fingers are running gently down my
face.

“So
sweet,” he murmurs against my lips.

I
can taste myself on him. I reach for the hem of his shirt again and push my
hand under it so I can caress his back, his ribs. He sighs deeply and rests his
forehead on mine, eyes closed.

“Your
hands feel good,” he whispers.

“So
do yours. Take your clothes off.”

He
sighs again, kisses my forehead and sits back on his heels.

“I
don’t think so.” He shakes his head and then chuckles ruefully while scrubbing
his hands over his face. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think
I’d better go.”

What??

He
must see the alarm on my face because he chuckles again and kisses me swiftly.

“I’m
picking you up for date number two tomorrow at noon.” His eyes take one more
leisurely stroll down my naked body and he curses under his breath.

“Okay,”
I respond, a bit unsure, and sit up, tug my dress over my head and stand as he
also rises from the floor.

“You
are incredible.” He cups my face in his hands and leans down to kiss me softly.

I
lead him to the front door, punch the code into the alarm system to disarm it
and open the door for him.

“Noon
tomorrow,” he reminds me, as if I could ever forget.

“It’s
a date.” I smile shyly at him.

“Set
this alarm when I leave.” He glares down at me, daring me to defy him and I
giggle.

“Yes,
sir.”

Chapter Seven

“How
many times have you been here?” Will asks me as we stand in line waiting to
purchase tickets for
Seattle’s Experience Music Project Museum
. It’s a
music museum, and so much more.

I
love this place.

“Dozens,”
I smile up at him,
geez he’s tall
and squeeze his hand. “It changes all
the time, with new exhibits and stuff. Plus, I could just sit and stare at the
guitars for days. Have you ever been?”

“No,
I’ve just never taken the time.” He winks down at me. “I’m a rookie.”

“That’s
okay, I’ll protect you.”

He
smirks and pays for our tickets, and I lead him into the museum.

We
wander up to the second floor where the exhibits are and I get lost in Jimi
Hendrix, Nirvana, The Stones, the guitar gallery. I point out interesting tid
bits of information for Will and drag him from room to room.

I
love sharing this with him, and I love how interested he seems. He’s not just
tagging along, trying to make me happy.

Best.
Date. Ever.

We
head up to the third floor and stand and stare at the enormous guitar
sculpture. It’s at least fifty feet tall and is made up of real guitars, of all
different shapes and sizes and colors. My eyes travel up it, examining the
instruments, and I feel Will’s eyes on me.

“What?”
I ask without looking at him.

“You
look awesome in that outfit.”

“This
old thing?” I ask and smirk, still not looking away from the sculpture. I’m in
a white v-neck t-shirt with a loose, brown cotton vest over skinny blue jeans.

After
a few moments, he’s still watching me.

“Do
I have something on my face?” I ask dryly.

“No,
you’re just so beautiful, with your auburn hair spilling down your back and
pink lips parted. I like watching you. You love this, don’t you?”

“More
than almost anything,” I respond truthfully. Music saved me when I was taken
from Sylvia. It was my whole life in college.

“I’ve
heard there’s a place here where you can get on stage,” Will comments casually
and I grin.

“There
is. No, I’m not getting on it,” I murmur before he can suggest it.

“Why?”

“Stage
fright,” I reply and start to lead him away from the sculpture.

“Bullshit.”
Will laughs and pulls me against him, his front to my back, and wraps his arms
around my waist, kissing my head. “You’re not shy, sweetheart.”

“I
just don’t want to.”

“I
would love to hear you. Please?”

I
sigh against him. I haven’t sung for anyone other than my patients since
college. Since the band broke up and Leo left town.