“Okay, the morning after. I woke up with a vision of you in my head, and a hard-on so unstoppable I nearly came all over the sofa.” At this moment, images of Kendall going solo-style fill my mind, and now my throat’s dry and my cock is like granite, but I want to hear more, so I down some water and lean closer. “What did you imagine me doing to you while you were taking care of business?”
Her eyes drop to my mouth, and then to my lap. “There are a couple different scenarios.” She leans her head to the side and trails her hand down her neck. “They all get the job done—”
“Your favorite.”
“You first.”
“Okay. You wander onto my deck,” I say without hesitation. This is an often-played scenario and, if she wants to hear it, I want to share it. “It’s night. The pool lights are on, and they guide you here. You’re wearing a robe, but you slip it off as you approach the water, and you’re naked beneath. I’m in the shadows, and I don’t know if you see me or if you think you’re alone, but you stop at the edge of the pool and stare at the water for a minute while the breeze has its way with you. I stay where I am, breathing shallow and gripping my dick through my jeans as I watch your nipples tighten. You bring your hands up and run your fingertips over them. Your eyelids droop and you bite your lip, and I wonder if you’re imagining me touching you. I decide you are, since you’re standing at my pool, and I think about stepping out of the shadows, but I don’t. Not yet.”
This session of true con
fessions is having a painfully predictable effect on me, but I don’t care, because I can’t take my eyes off Kendall. Pink cheeks, parted lips, she’s hanging on my every word. As I watch, she crosses her legs and shifts forward. I nearly die.
“Then you dive in, and I step to the opposite end of the pool. I can hardly walk. I want you so badly every step tortures me, but the sight of your naked body gliding under the water tortures me even more. A couple lazy strokes, and you break the surface right at my feet. By the time you see me there I’m already closing in on you. I grip your wrists and haul you out of the pool. Water’s streaming off you, and you’re probably a little cold, but I don’t care because I’m on fire—every fucking inch of me. I hold you against me. You’re cool and smooth and sleek. I’m touching you everywhere, but I can’t get you close enough, fast enough. Maybe I’m moving too fast, because you wriggle out of my grasp and walk away. You walk to the railing, wrap your hands around the top bar, and then shoot me this look over your shoulder—a look that says I’ve got to do more than just show up and grab you.”
Kendall’s hands rest near mine on the table. I wrap my fingers around her wrist. Her pulse is pounding. I feel the echo of it in my head. My chest. My aching balls.
“What do you do?” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“I walk over to you and stand close but don’t touch you anywhere. When you shiver, I sweep your hair aside and kiss the back of your neck. Just that. My lips on your skin. I kiss my way down your body, inch by inch. I stop often. I take my time, until you’re gripping the rail and squirming under my lips. Then I turn you around and kiss my way back up. I taste every part of you. You’re screaming for me now, and I let you scream, because my body’s screaming, too, and why should it suffer alone? But I give you only my mouth, working you with my lips and tongue until your breath hitches, and your body stiffens, and you come in a sweet, heavy rush. I catch you before your legs give out and lift you onto the railing. I tear my jeans open, part those long, endless legs of yours, and finally, finally drive into you. You’re tight, and wet, and still quivering from the first orgasm, and it’s more than I can take. I fuse my mouth to yours and fuck you like my life depends on it. You’re wrapped around me, holding tight, with your heels digging into my thighs and your fingernails raking my ass. This time your scream flows straight into my throat, vibrates down my spine, and into my balls. Then your body hugs my cock, I call your name, and come in one long burst that drains me, body and soul.”
I look down at our hands. Mine’s still around her wrist, but somewhere in the course of the story, she clamped her fingers around my wrist, too, the leather bracelet she gave me pressing into my skin. Now she lets go and tugs herself out of my grasp. Then she gets to her feet.
Shit. Scared her off with my raunchy jack-off fantasy. I drop my head and listen to the click of her high heels on the deck. I expect to hear a rapid tap as she descends the steps, but it doesn’t come. The noise stops abruptly.
“Vaughn?”
I look up to find her standing at the rail, holding onto the topmost bar and looking over her shoulder. Her gaze locked on me.
Chapter Seventeen
Kendall
Sexy fun. That’s what tonight’s about. I haven’t stopped thinking about Vaughn. Haven’t stopped wanting him. Even from across the patio, he weaves a seductive spell, and I want his dirty story-telling mouth all over me. That he’s fantasized about me the way I’ve fantasized about him is a huge turn-on. We’ve flirted all week via text, and I knew while getting dressed that tonight I wanted him to be my first.
“Yes?” he answers, rising to his feet. I like the predatory gleam in his eyes.
Instead of replying, I turn my head, and before I can talk myself out of it, start to shimmy out of my dress. He’s set up this little scenario, giving me the impetus and direction I needed, and I plan to deliver. I sway to the sultry music pouring out of hidden speakers and slowly bare my body to him, exposing my back, my ass, my legs. When the material reaches my ankles, I carefully step out of it. I’m left in a black G-string with a tiny pink bow at the top of my butt and my fuchsia sling-back pumps.
A breeze coasts over my skin, turning my nipples into aching points. I grip the railing in anticipation of Vaughn’s approach.
“You are fucking gorgeous,” he whispers in my ear. His warm breath and raunchy compliment send a hot shiver through me, and suddenly I’m languishing in the sexiest moment of my life. His smooth jaw brushes my neck, but otherwise he doesn’t touch me.
Still, his nearness penetrates all my senses. I hear the echo of his words in my mind. I inhale the scent of his aftershave. The realization he took these measures to captivate me turns me on a little more.
“Thank you,” I say.
Touch me, I almost add, but don’t. Because I can feel him standing right behind me, and the anticipation sparks like a palpable thing. I can practically hear his heart beating strong and fast in his chest, feel the rush of his blood and the heat of need building, and through all that I sense his restraint. The rush and the heat and the need thrill me, but so does his control. My confidence grows, not because of his composure, but because of mine. I own this. I am strong, sexy, desired.
But it’s hard to hold still, knowing he’s fully clothed, and I’m next to naked, and he’s looking his fill. Prickles of awareness tighten my skin. The moment stretches. When I don’t think I can hold out another second for him to touch me I say, “What are you waiting for?”
“I don’t want to rush. Well”—he laughs—“I do, more than you could possibly know, but I’m not going to, because this is like my first time, too.”
Mutual first times. That’s how this was supposed to happen for me, but…it didn’t. I swallow the emotion his words stir up. There’s no place for my past here. This is about the here and now. About Vaughn and about me.
“Puh-lease,” I say to add levity to our situation. “It’s probably not even your hundred-and-first time.”
“It’s the first time I’ve been someone’s first. I take the privilege seriously. So yeah, we’re going to take it slow. You’re going to tell me what you want, and when you want it—how hard, soft, deep, long—and I’m going to give your beautiful body every single thing you ask for. Deal?”