13. Andrea
This was happening. Deacon was kissing me. For real this time with no reason to stop. Except for the fact we were in his car, and my beloved dog was a hostage to the scene.
Deacon seemed to remember we were in the garage at the same time I did. “Stay here a moment.”
He was out of the car and around it in seconds to open my door. “I need you out of this dress. You take Callie, and I’ll grab her bed. I’ll come out and get the rest later.”
He took my hand to help me out of the car, reached in to snatch Callie’s stuffed bed, and led us into the hallway, through the kitchen, and directly into his master bedroom.
Callie was content at being in the same room as me and lay down on her fluffy bed the moment it was placed on the floor.
“Where were we?” He dove back into our kiss like he couldn’t wait another second. I was right there with him. He tasted of milkshake, the combination of chocolate, mint, and him wreaking havoc on my senses.
His fingers worked my zipper, tugging it down my side before sliding the straps off my shoulders. The silk floated down the length of my body to pool on the floor.
“Jesus, you’re a vision,” he hissed, trailing kisses above the lace of my bra.
Despite my body being totally on board with the idea of getting naked with Deacon, my brain was threatening to interfere. I was anxious about having sex with someone new, and the perfect specimen of a man at that. The more I tried to ignore it, the more my physical reaction kicked in.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured, pulling back to meet my eyes.
Oh, hell no. I had one weekend, and I planned on enjoying the entire thing. “Ignore it. I know I intend to.”
He pressed his forehead against mine. “Talk to me, Andi. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
Oh, man. How truthful should I be? If he stopped, I wasn’t sure I’d ever forgive myself for being honest, but if I didn’t put it out there, the anxiety was sure to consume me. “You’re the second man I’ve ever done this with. And I more than want to, but I’m nervous.”
“Then let me relax you. Sit on the bed, beautiful.”
I took a seat on the luxurious bedding at the foot of the imposing, king-sized bed and watched as he knelt in front of me. Like we were in a fantasy reel, he peeled off his jacket before leaning forward and inhaling my scent over the top of my panties.
“I should shower before you do that.” I assumed all men preferred it clean, so imagine my shock when he did a slow shake of his head.
“Do you know how I like my pussy?”
Gulp. “No?”
“I want to eat your pussy smelling and tasting like pussy, not soap. Spread your legs and let me taste you.”
Officially the hottest words ever said.
Hooking his thumbs on either side of my underwear, he pulled the scrap of material down my legs, losing it somewhere on the floor. His gaze met mine for a moment before flicking back to my center.
It started with a hot breath and butterfly kisses on the inside of my thighs. I was still shaking, but more from arousal than nerves at this point. Deacon moved slowly, with deliberate strokes of his tongue. “So good,” he breathed, teasing me with his tongue, lips, and a nip of his teeth around my delicate skin.
I was convinced I’d die of this delicious torture when he changed it up completely and started the real onslaught, inserting a finger deep inside of me. “You’re tight.”
One moment I was about to respond with something lame like, “uh-huh,” and the next I’d sucked in a breath because he’d taken my clit prisoner between his lips. Meanwhile his tongue showed it no mercy.
His fingers worked me at the same time. Normally, it took me a while to get to such a point, but suddenly I was climaxing with his face buried in my pussy. Upon orgasming with the world’s sexiest man, I should have let out a dainty moan with a sophisticated, sensual shudder of my body covered in the perfect misty sheen to add a glow, but not too sweaty.
In reality I screamed so loud that my poor dog came running over to the side of the bed to whine, worried for my safety. “It’s okay, girl,” I panted out, attempting to sit up but still spasming from the powerful release.
Deacon chuckled at the situation, making my face heat. “Don’t you dare be embarrassed. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
“The part where I traumatized my dog with my unladylike screams or the portion where your neighbors are probably calling 911 because they suspect a murder next door.”
“Ah, lucky for you I’ve had the windows soundproofed for that very reason.” He was so deadpan that my brow arched.
Then he gave it away with laughter. Mine followed, breaking the tension.
But my humor faded the moment Deacon stood up and started to undress. I propped up on my elbows to watch, needing only a bucket of popcorn to make the striptease a real show.
His skin was golden, his tattoos a myriad of colors and designs covering one entire arm in a sleeve and spreading over his pectoral muscle. Dragging my heated gaze down, I salivated at the way his six-pack abs rippled—the type you only saw on TV or in magazines. But these were the real deal.
“In three weeks they’ll be gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ll happily have vacation stomach, where I’m not training every day and watching what I eat. Instead I’ll happily be in carb heaven.”
“You say that like it’s not the sexiest thing you’ve ever uttered.”
Our grins were matching. At least until the point where he whipped off his boxers, and my mouth dropped open.
It was unfair to expect a mega rock star to have a big dick, but Deacon Miller more than delivered. The only thing small was the worry in the back of my mind if he would fit inside of me.
“You’re beautiful.” My blurt wasn’t as bad as bleating at the man, but it was far from smooth. Sexy bedroom banter was not my forte.
His hand gripped his hardened length. “Yeah, what is it you like the most?”
My gaze was incapable of moving from the sight of him slowly stroking himself in front of me. “Your eyes?” I croaked out.
He threw his head back with laughter. “You’re hell on an ego, Andi.”
My smile was lopsided. “Yet somehow I think you’ll recover.”
He moved closer, giving me the chance to run my fingertips over his muscles and incredible ink work. His body was insane.
Stroking his skin, I marveled at the veins in his arms and the way he flexed under my touch. Tentatively, I followed the path of my hands with my mouth. His skin tasted divine. My tongue then skated over his nipple, causing him to inhale sharply. I attempted to move south, but he pulled me back up to his lips.
Good Lord, the man could kiss.
The taste of myself on his tongue only fueled my desire. His guitar-string-calloused fingers stroked my skin, causing delicious tingles from head to toe. I wasn’t entirely sure this was reality. How had we gone from fake kisses to having sex?
He wasted no time in pulling a foil packet from his nightstand and slid the condom on with a practiced skill I wouldn’t think about.
After climbing on the bed, he spread my legs and notched himself at my opening. Moving forward one delicious inch at a time, he waited for me to adjust to his size.
He swallowed my gasp, a small measure of pain mixed with the overwhelming pleasure of his kiss. The fullness was a sensation I’d never experienced.
Once he was fully seated, we both let out a collective sigh of relief. I didn’t believe the sensation could intensify until he started to move. Slowly at first, his cadence intensified as my body stretched around him. The pleasure was indescribable. Then he went and multiplied it by lifting my hips and pushing deeper.
My hands ran down his biceps and onto his shoulders, feeling the way his entire body flexed with every thrust. The sounds of slapping skin, the smell of his expensive cologne, the lingering taste of his kiss, and him deep inside of me set all of my senses on fire at once.
“I’m getting close.” I couldn’t believe it was building again so soon after my first orgasm.
“Me too.” He reached down between our bodies, circling my clit with devilish precision.
My entire lower half went rigid before I exploded into a million pieces. I was vaguely aware of his growl and the way his body tensed while he ground his climax deep into me. Although my shouts were muted this time around, they were definitely still on the loud side.
“That was incredible,” he murmured, sliding out slowly and moving to lie beside me.
“It was,” I responded, grateful it hadn’t only been in my head.
We lay there awhile, snuggled into one another and allowing our breathing to return to normal. Then, pressing a kiss against my forehead, Deacon climbed out of bed and went toward the bathroom where I assumed he disposed of the condom.
He crawled back into the bed, gathered me close, and kissed down the curve of my neck. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”
I wanted to believe his words. But I’d seen his ex. Tall, thin, with zero curves. As if sensing my doubt, he pulled away the sheet I’d gathered up over my body.
“Don’t believe me? Then I’ll have to show you.”
Yes, please.