Chapter 40
After finalizing Yolanda’s fantastic routine for the creativity challenge, I exit the practice room, travel bag in hand, feeling about a thousand things at once. But, mostly, lust. My heart is racing, my hands sweaty. I have nearly lost all sense of where I am.
After an hour and a half in there—Yolanda stretched out in flight, twisting into aerial backflips, lush breasts bouncing and beautiful hips swaying—I’m feverish with need. The desire to be inside her is so strong that it’s making it hard to think.
I’m also pissed—this show, having to repair my reputation, the board insisting on a face-to-face, the vitriol of the other contestants, what people I don’t even know think of us… All of it feels like unfair obstacles to being with her.
“Easton.”
I startle at her touch and look down. I’m not sure what I expect, but when I see the same need raging within me reflected in her eyes… Fuuuck.
I work my mouth in silence before I manage, “Your apartment?”
“Sí.”
She leads. I follow. Reasoning has left the building. Fear has left the building. We are driven by a longing a hundred-thousand hours old and a decade in the making.
Blood thump, thump, thumps in my ears with each step toward the elevator. She waves her security fob over a black pad, presses the button for her floor and also the lobby. I realize that last button push was for anyone who might watch the tick of elevator buttons up here as we descend. Seeing only one floor, her private floor, for the two of us would not be a good thing. We are most definitely sneaking around.
We stay silent.
Afraid to break a spell? Afraid our restraint will fall right here? I don’t know. I’m so hard it’s uncomfortable. The doors slide open and I trail her like a puppy.
Right now, I’m furious at everyone and anything that would try to keep me from her, from what we are going to do once I get her alone.
Panting like I’ve run a mile, I follow her into her apartment. She locks the door, then turns to me. I drop my bag and we crash together. I kiss her, possess her mouth with all that mad want roaring to the surface. She moans, then arches against me.
Our tongues meet, teasing with soft wetness as I walk her backward down her front hall into her living room. I don’t even look around to get a sense of the place.
I rip my mouth from hers. “Bedroom?” I growl in a voice that doesn’t sound anything like mine.
“Here.”
To my utter shock, she turns around and places her palms against the wall, bracing herself.
The villain in me rages. I want.
I yank her pants and G-string down with one fierce tug. Her plump, perfect ass bounces with the movement. Losing my mind at the sight, I release my cock.
My pulse pounds against my ears. I slide a hand between her legs. Grunt in satisfaction at the ready slickness I find there. When I nudge her ass with my cock, she pushes back, going up on tiptoes.
I might be the luckiest man in the world. My chest heaves. Grasping her around her middle, I position myself to enter, to take. Even with her on the very tips of her toes, I need to bend.
Her head falls back with a moan. “Condom?”
Fuck. My cock throbs against her opening. Palming one of her ass cheeks, I fight to get control. Panting, I release that round flesh.
Cock dripping, hands trembling, I grab a condom from my wallet. I’m so primed, my cock jerks as I slide it on.
“Ready?” I ask in a deadly-serious voice.
Her reply is instant. “Sí.”
Steadying her again with an arm around her middle, I push inside her. A rough groan breaks from my mouth as her slick softness slowly accepts all of me.
Her sex clenches around me. “Muy bueno.”
Her sultry approval crawls over me like a finger. That villain in me, the one that feels no guilt when it comes to enjoying every bit of this woman, slams into my consciousness as I pump roughly inside her.
She moans and gasps, grunts and whimpers. Sweat drips down her back. I lick it off as I continue to thrust.
“Faster?” I ask, though I know the answer. I’m thrilled, in a feral way, to bring her such mindless pleasure.
“Sí. Please.”
Unleashed, I thrust fiercely.
Her biceps flex. Her hands tense against the wall. Her toes scrape the ground. She whimpers. Her arms buckle, and she drops her forehead with a heated moan.
I move my free hand to cup her cheek, to cushion her head.
I want her to come so hard she’ll never want anyone else inside her but me. I use every bit of conditioning I have to bring her there.
Her groans become louder and louder until the soft mouth that had kissed my wrist bites hard against the meat of my palm. “Ay. Ay! Easton!” She comes apart. Her silky warmth convulses violently around me. And those tight, throbbing vibrations feel sooo good…
“Fuck,” I growl as my own orgasm takes me completely unaware. I see stars.
Powerful sensations explode through me, rippling out with a shockwave that travels all the way down to my toes, leaving me bucking and groaning behind her.
My heartbeat struggles for normal. Slowly, my satiated body calms. I gently kiss the curve of her ear, gasping. “You okay?”
“I…” She swallows. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this okay in my life.” She squeezes her walls around my semi-hard cock. “I wish you could stay here forever.”
“Me, too.” With a reluctant groan, I pull out, turn her around, then kiss her lightly on the tip of her nose.
She looks up at me with cheeks stained pink and wide eyes glassy with wonder. “This passion is what you promised me in our dance.”
“I promised more,” I say, running a hand down the side of her beautiful face and brushing curls behind her ear. “Hard and soft. Can I show you tender?”
“I… Yes,” she breathes with an uncertain gleam in her eyes.
Slipping off the condom, I drop it in a nearby wastebasket, then slide to my knees in front of her. I inhale deeply. She smells amazing.
Her clit is so swollen and sensitive that the moment I stroke my tongue across it, she cries out and rocks onto her heels. “That feels…” She hums the end of that sentence.
That’s all the welcome I need. My restless tongue praises and devours her soft, silky nub. Praises and enjoys all of her salty goodness. Strokes and delights in her arching response.
I charm a series of moans from her, barely able to keep my fingers— which want so badly to be inside her—to myself because I know how hard I rode her.
Instead, I use my lips and mouth, suck and stroke, until her fingers burrow into my hair, her hands grip my head, and she wiggles firmly against my mouth. Her every reaction sends a pulse of want soaring into my balls.
“Sí. Eso.” She gasps, writhes, throws her head back, then cries out.
A sweet, salty warmth spills against my tongue. I lap it up as she trembles and quivers, vibrates and throbs against me.
She tastes amazing. Decadent.
When the fluttering against my tongue stops, she goes boneless. Unexpectedly, she slumps against my shoulder.
I react on instinct. Scooping her into a fireman’s carry, I spank her lightly.
She laughs, low and delicious.
Pulling my pants up, my boxers’ elastic rolling awkwardly against my ass, I walk down a narrow hallway, certain her bedroom has to be down here.
I toe open the door at the end of the hall. Yep.
I duck under the doorway. Her bedroom is small and neat with a white comforter and way too many pillows.
Tossing pillows, tugging down one side of the blankets, I lower her onto the bed and cover her up, tucking her in with smooth movements.
Stretching, she smiles shyly up at me. “So good my legs stopped working.”
I can’t help the hell-yes! flash of pride. I lean down and kiss her. “Is it too male to high-five myself?”
She hums something that sounds like sí before closing her eyes.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” I whisper.
She cracks open her eyes and sighs, “Will you leave your shirt?”
Fireworks go off in my chest. She wants to hold onto my shirt? Talk about killing someone with kindness. So sweet, it hurts. “Of course,” I manage, knowing I can grab a new one from my bag, which is still somewhere in the front hall.
“Gracias,” she whispers. Her breathing evens out. She falls asleep.
Looks like I put her into a satisfaction coma. Internally, I am high fiving myself.
Though there’s nothing I want more than to climb in bed with her, wait for her to wake, and start the fun all over again, I know if I do that I’m never going to leave. So, I kiss her lightly on her forehead, tug off my shirt, and drape it over the end of her bed.
I stare at her soft, sleeping form for a long moment with my heart in my throat. This is the woman I want to come home to. She is home for me.
That’s it. I’m done pretending that I’m not absolutely crazy about her. I don’t care who it upsets. The contestants, public, or the board. Nothing will ever keep me from her again…