Chapter 8
EIGHT
Lucy knew now. She had to know just how much Sebastián had hidden from her and how long he must have hidden it.
Sure, she hadn’t mentioned the kiss since they’d climbed into his car and begun the drive home.
But only a fool wouldn’t realize the significance of a longtime friend seizing her, bending her over backward, and having her ride his thigh while his mouth devoured hers and his erection prodded her hip.
And Lucy might be more innocent than most people, but she was far from a fool.
He’d been so proud of her poise, her willingness to advocate for herself, the renewed confidence shining from her brown eyes. Proud of her and starving for her, the knowledge of their brief remaining time together beating against the inside of his skull like a jackhammer.
Even if a million cameras had been trained on them, he couldn’t have stopped himself from reaching for her.
If they’d been within a mile of privacy, rather than surrounded by cameras and mics and a television crew, he didn’t know whether he could have resisted inching her skirt up her thighs, sliding his hand between her legs, and finding out once and for all what sounds she made when she came.
How her sex would quiver and tighten around his fingers.
Whether he could push her into a second orgasm with his tongue.
Even with all those onlookers, he’d already learned too much.
Lucy tasted even sweeter than he’d imagined, burned even hotter than he’d dreamed.
How could he go back to pretending? How could he keep acting as if the thought of her imminent departure didn’t flay him alive? But how could he bare all his need, all his desperation, after over a decade of concealing both?
Even though she was looking out the window, seemingly unaware of him and his swirling thoughts, she stretched out an arm, and her hand landed on his thigh. He almost drove off the road.
Fuck, he wanted her. More than anything else in his world.
So he’d follow her lead. Let her guide what happened next. But no matter what happened between them, he’d maintain his control. He’d let her go without her knowing how much he wanted her to stay. He’d preserve some small, scared portion of himself.
He’d let her bare her soul, while continuing to hide his.
As he’d always understood, she was so much braver than him.
When they pulled into his garage, he swallowed over a dry throat. “What are your plans for the night?”
Not a statement of his desires. A question, one that might lead her out onto that emotional ledge where he was waiting, although she didn’t know it. Would never know it.
New surety glowed in her expression. “The same as yours.”
“Ah.” He unbuckled his seat belt and fiddled with his garage door opener. Anything to disguise his trembling fingers. “Care to elaborate?”
She freed herself from her own belt. “We have to take care of our four-legged family. Hairy needs a good walk, good food, and a good petting. Kitty probably needs a break from his incessant adoration.”
“And then?”
“Then I have to check for work messages. I’m expecting a text or voicemail from that grumpy colonial woman, and I want to get back to her as quickly as possible. I figure you might need to answer a few work messages too.”
He inclined his head. “And after that?”
“If we’re hungry, we eat.”
Food didn’t compare to the prospect of her spread naked beneath him. Nothing did.
“And if we’re not?”
She traced a line up his leg with a single fingertip, and he let out a shaky breath.
This time, she didn’t stop at his thigh.
Her fingers closed over his jeans-clad erection, her palm providing sweet, teasing pressure, and he wrote lines of code in his head, frantic and struggling to stay in control.
Even in the dimness of the garage, her smile shone. “We figure out whether we’re as compatible in bed as we are outside of it.”
There. There it was. And he’d earned it without having to commit himself, even once.
But he had to ask. “Is that really what you want?”
“Of course.” Her confident smile faded. “Isn’t it what you want too?”
He couldn’t answer that. Wouldn’t. So instead of using words, he reached across the front seat, hauled her into his lap, and kissed her until she’d forgotten her question.
When he let her go, they were both panting.
Rubbing her nose against his, she breathed, “Let’s take care of our pets and work.”
She climbed off his lap, her hiked-up skirt giving him a glimpse of…something. Something shadowy and wholly unexpected, despite his recent speculation. Holy Jesus, did she really not wear any underwear?
He took a moment to gather himself. “Okay.”
“Then we can take care of each other.” Flicking the skirt down to cover her legs, she smiled again as she headed for the inside of the house.
Like the helpless, lovesick man he was, he followed.
The time had arrived, and Sebastián’s heart had twisted itself into a tangled knot. At this point, it was likely as blue and oxygen-starved as his Smurftastic balls.
The pets had been fed, watered, and either petted or given a civilized nod, as Hairy and Kitty respectively preferred. Work messages had been perused and answered. Lucy had decided dinner could wait.
Because they couldn’t, she’d said. Not any longer.
She preceded him to his own bedroom, her fingers intertwined with his.
She closed the door behind them. And then she let go of him.
Without further ado, she grabbed the hem of her tunic with both hands and yanked it over her head.
Tossing it onto a table, she put her hands on her hips and let him get an unobstructed view of her breasts for the first time ever.
With her movements, they bounced and settled before his avid gaze. Small. Shaped like teardrops. Crowned by rosy-tan areolas and puckered nipples. Absolutely breathtaking.
He wanted endless minutes to explore the uncharted territory they’d entered.
To admire her the way she deserved, the way he’d imagined so many times that week.
He wanted to take mental pictures of her just like this, of her magnificent self-possession and the joy crinkling the corners of her eyes as she stood half-naked before him.
He might need those memories to sustain him when she left.
But Lucy didn’t seem worried about the future. She also wasn’t interested in feigning either patience or shyness. Before he could do more than blink a few times in stunned appreciation of her breasts, she was tugging her skirt down to her ankles and kicking it aside.
Somewhere in the depths of his lust-shrouded brain, he attempted to recall the symptoms of heart attacks. Crushing pressure in his chest? Check. Breathlessness? Definitely. Tingling in unusual places? Oh, yes.
As far as he knew, though, heart attacks didn’t cause erections. So he had to assume Lucy, rather than a stoppage in his arteries, was causing his current distress.
With a grin in his direction, she bounded up onto the bed and knelt—completely and utterly naked, holy fuck—in the middle. Then she held out her hands.
“What are you waiting for?” She wiggled her fingers. “Come and get me.”
He didn’t know the answer to that question. He only knew that whatever she asked of him, he’d do.
As he pulled his tee over his head, he resented the moment she spent out of his sight. But then she was there again, smiling at him as he unzipped and shucked his jeans, then his briefs.
Her gaze fell directly to his dick. “Congratulations on a very successful puberty, Seb.”
He had to laugh. “If only my gym classmates could see me now.”
“You could always e-mail them or send Facebook DMs. You have options.” She beckoned him forward with a single fingertip. “Still not much hair on your chest, though.”
He climbed onto the bed. “I consider it a fair tradeoff.”
“Me too, since I find body hair scratchy.” She pursed her lips. “I suppose that makes me a hypocrite, doesn’t it?”
“No.” Shaking his head, he trailed his hand up her thigh. “Just human. Consistency isn’t exactly the hallmark of our species.”
“True.” She shivered under his touch, and he let his fingers drop from her body.
If he followed his instincts, he’d pounce on her, sweep her beneath him, and get his hands and mouth on those sweet breasts at long last. Tell her how perfect he found her curvy legs, her lush hips, and that round ass.
Then show her how he could tease those gorgeous nipples until they were stiff and straining for his mouth, how he could make her gasp with a slow, hot circle of his tongue around her clit.
Instead, he waited, his hands fisted at his sides.
She couldn’t know how hungry he was for the feel of her against him, skin to skin. But she fed him anyway, with that characteristic generosity of hers, reaching for him and tumbling him beneath her.
She propped her elbows on either side of his head. “Hi, there.”
The welcome weight of her pressed him into the mattress, and he wanted to keep sinking, keep descending, until he drowned in softness and Lucy.
Until his lungs were suffused with the scent of honey, and the taste of her filled his mouth.
Until the world and all his fears disappeared, leaving only her, naked and warm and happy in his arms.
That wasn’t going to happen. But her breasts were so close, and he could at least get a fleeting glimpse of what he wanted. He could give her pleasure, even in the midst of disguising the violence of his own need.
So he raised his head and rubbed his cheek against her, letting the incipient stubble on his face prickle against her soft skin, her beaded nipple.
Lifting a hand, he cupped the slight weight of her breast and brushed across its tight point with the pad of his thumb.
It stiffened further beneath the contact, her areola furling into an intricate, fascinating design.
She squirmed against him, but he didn’t hurry. He rubbed and circled until she closed her eyes, swallowing hard. Then he plucked her nipple, pinching lightly. Just hard enough to prick at her nerve endings and stimulate her.
Her hips began a subtle rock against his, and he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked. Her legs opened, and then she was straddling him, her knees planted beside his ribs as she supported herself on her hands and moaned.
He prodded the tight nub of flesh with his tongue and gave her nipple one last, harder suck. Then he moved to the other side, teasing her and licking her until her eyes closed and her hair fell around them both.
After another minute, she murmured, “Enough teasing.”
Her weight shifted atop him, and her right hand grasped his cock, her grip firm and knowledgeable.
His head fell back, his lips parting. He could only clutch her to him then, only run his hands in frantic strokes along her sides and back, only squeeze her round ass as she took control and pumped him up and down, up and down.
Oh, Jesus. He wasn’t going to make it. He was going to explode in her hand before he even got inside her. Certainly before she had a chance to come. But he couldn’t seem to move away from the blinding pleasure of her touch.
She claimed his mouth, tracing the seam of his lips with her tongue until he opened to her. Her tongue flicked against his, playing. He sucked the tip of it, and the rhythm of her hand faltered. Encouraged, he did it again, and she arched against him, her grip loosening.
His mind cleared just enough to do the right thing.
Gently, he pulled her hand away from his cock. She was draped over him, her legs on either side of his. The perfect position for what he wanted.
Sliding his hand between their bodies, he stroked over her belly and combed through her curls. Then he reached her wet heat, and his mind went white.
Christ. Christ, she was soft and slippery beneath his fingers. At the first rub of his thumb over her clit, she jerked and made a choked sound.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Do that again.”
Oh, fuck, he wanted to. He really did. But he had something else in mind.
He parted her folds, opening them. Then he positioned his erection along that wet furrow, took her hips in his hands, and slid her back and forth, letting the pressure and hardness of his cock rub against her clit.
“Ohhhh.” Her legs spread further, and she started panting. “That feels…”
He circled his hips, and she bit her lip, bearing down on him.
Her slickness was bathing the base of his cock, she was rocking against him and whimpering, and this was the best sexual experience of his life, bar none. Her entire body stiffened, and she gave a loud, low moan as her sex twitched against his erection and she began shuddering in orgasm.
He couldn’t stop himself from coming at the same time, the smell and sounds and feel of her pleasure too much for him to endure.
She collapsed on top of him as he jerked and groaned, his mind mercifully blank.
Recovering a few stray brain cells took a long, long time.
And then they were lying there, trembling and gasping, glued together with various bodily fluids, and he bit his tongue to stop himself from declaring his fealty and his heart.
From cuddling her close and swearing he’d never let her go again.
Because he would let her go. Soon. So he had no idea what to say or do. What he could say or do without revealing too much.
Mercifully, however, Lucy took charge once again. Tipping up her chin, she planted a kiss on his mouth. After levering himself off of him, she crawled to the edge of the mattress and hopped down.
As she headed for the bathroom with remarkable energy, she called out cheerfully, “One orgasm down, many more to go!”
As always, she was the optimistic sort. But in this case, he thought he could oblige.