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Best Erotic Romance 2013 Page 13
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“Baby, more,” he said, but it wasn’t the John who was fucking her now but his doppelganger on screen. Hers replied with a short outcry. Holly echoed it as he thrust deep. That perfect, hot pulsation went through her abdomen and coiled upward. She locked her fingers at the back of his neck and pushed up as he leaned forward.
Then, his mouth was licking and sucking against her throat, his large hands gripping and bruising as he tilted her back. She held on, muscles in her abs and thighs going taut as he slipped his hands to her hips to push and pull her over his dick. Together they rocked faster and faster, matching the unrelenting pace of the couple on screen.
He went forward until she was on her back against the ottoman, head hanging over the edge as he bent her legs and pushed down, both keeping her spread and using her for leverage as he pumped her harder.
The world was askew no matter which way she looked. Up, at John’s creased brow and puckered lips illuminated by the glow of the television; straight ahead, at the upside-down moving picture of her other self on hands and knees, bouncing back and forth over the other John’s cock.
Looking back at her husband, it appeared as though John’s gaze never left her face. She was captivated. To see his expression grow more desperate, to watch the surge building as well as to feel it, hot and pulsing between her slick inner walls, took her higher with every thrust.
“Don’t stop,” the other Holly said in a breathy plea. “More.”
Holly reached both arms over her head and gripped the edge of the ottoman. It was an action that kept her steady, but as John pumped faster, harder, the small piece of furniture slid and rocked.
“Don’t stop fucking me, baby.”
John grunted and released her knees. His grip joined hers over her head, covering her hands. His stance changed, feet against the floor, his weight dominating her.
“I’m coming,” the other John said, his voice all around her.
Above her, John groaned and pinned her. That last pass over her G-spot was the one to make the world disappear. There was only John—his damp belly pressed against hers, the flash of his teeth as he clenched them, and his cock buried deep, throbbing as he emptied into her.
She held on to him for a moment longer, just long enough to take a sharp breath before her orgasm exploded in her abdomen and rushed outward. She opened her arms to him as he sank down and clung to his sweat-slick body as his cock throbbed, every contraction sending a fresh and powerful eruption through her.
Shaking, she remained wrapped around him until one final shudder passed through him and he moved. She didn’t want to let go, not of him or of the exhilaration of having him inside of her and a part of her, but a pinprick of pride loosened her limbs.
She let him go, and watched through her lashes as he toppled back onto the sofa and turned off the television.
“You never could stay mad,” he said with laughter in his voice.
Holly took a moment to gauge his tone. Her natural instincts were to go on the defensive, but she was far too weighed down by euphoria to put any effort into it, and so she chuckled.
“I’m out of practice.”
“I beg to differ.”
She sat up and found him grinning at her. She resisted the urge to return the smile. “Don’t think that just because you made me come it’s going to get you off the sofa.”
Still smiling, he picked up her robe and held it between two fingers. “It won’t kill me, not for a couple of days.”
“A couple of days?” She took the robe and wrapped it around her. “I thought it was one night.”
“Maybe two. Maybe more.”
She paused and stared at him. It was such a contrast to the man he presented to the world. This one, sated and smug and so fucking sexy, was all hers.
And she was glad to have him back.
She gestured to the staircase behind him. “Come on. It’s the least I can do after letting you simmer in your own juices for so long.”
“My, my, didn’t I marry a generous woman.” He followed her through the semidarkness, hands brushing her hips as she led him to their bedroom.
RENOVATE
Nina Reyes
Jane stood by the kitchen window and stared at the awakening New England landscape. Spring was still gaining a foothold in her little section of Massachusetts. It would be a while before it confidently strode on both legs. The sun dappled through the leaves of the stately elm that lived in the backyard. Nature had taken the hint; a few squirrels were playing at the foot of the tree, scurrying after one another in a blur. It was something out of a daydream.
She sighed, knowing she was incapable of appreciating a morning like this. She brought her attention back to the sputtering coffeepot, as though taking vigil at a deathbed.
The faucet was dripping. Though it was the house of her dreams, it had taken some work to get there. The kitchen was her pride and joy. Along with brand-spanking-new appliances, she had made a point of updating the counters and sink. The sink was a Kohler, a slick model that looked more like a fountain at a modern art museum. She had spent what she was quite sure constituted a small fortune on the kitchen alone.
And the fucking faucet was dripping.
Her left foot was keeping time with what was quickly becoming the bane of her existence. Jane stared at the coffee machine, as though honing some latent powers of telekinesis.
It was only seven A.M., but Jane hoped to be out of the house and on the way to the office early. This was the seventh consecutive day that she had been forced to shower and dress without the aid of caffeine. She left that task for last, grabbing her large portable coffee mug to drink in the car, despite the imminent threat that the all-too-many pot holes presented to her daily business attire. The risk was worth it. Anything to get out of the house early enough to avoid bumping into him. Life was messy enough as it is. Getting fixated on a man was one of the last things she needed. Since that Sunday out by the garage, when he was looking at her with that strange intensity and she leaned in and almost…
The black pumps were the last things that went on before leaving the house. When she tapped her bare foot, it made a light slapping sound on the tile. Walking to the newly installed French doors, she peered out to gauge how much further the landscaping had to go, now that pleasant weather was finally starting to settle back in again. Jane thought that all she needed was for the porch deck to be finished and her problems would be over. Two months’ worth of renovations and she nearly had her dream home. Almost.
“God,” she wondered aloud. “It looks like it could be done in a day.”
Yet somehow, Garrett Shaw had told her that it would be another two weeks. That was a week and a half ago when they spoke on the phone. She had managed to avoid seeing him in the flesh for most of that time. Just a few short days, and she could go back to having easy mornings that didn’t involve getting to work an hour early, braving the outside world without her caffeine shield firmly in place.
Goddamn you, Shaw.
A last sputtering hiss came from the machine before silence settled in.
“Finally.” Jane said, grabbing her travel mug and putting in all of the fixings. Mug in one hand, safety lid in the other, she turned, preparing to gather her things and leave. She took a lingering look at the elm tree, which had been a big selling point for the slightly too-large house. She smiled. It was going to be a good day.
A face suddenly popped in front of the window and gave a muffled yell, “Hey!”
She screamed and took two steps back. Her arms flew up in a blocking position, her survival instincts not showing the least bit of concern in regard to the large tumbler of coffee. The shock of the hot coffee splashing across her entire upper body was enough to put a stop to her panic, leaving her gasping.
The French doors opened and Garrett rushed in. “Are you alright? Oh, my god.” He took two steps toward her before the hand still holding the lid straightened in front of her, blocking his path.
“Stop!” she yell
ed, shutting both eyes. “Just stop!” Her exhalations were loud and her nostrils flared.
He stood there, both hands in the air in the classic surrender pose. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you like that, really.”
Jane opened her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. Garrett was well over six feet and almost two hundred pounds of pure man. At the moment though, he looked like a repentant little boy, despite the dark five o’clock shadow that always seemed to cover his face.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she yelled.
His eyebrows rose, giving her a great view of his green eyes. “Working, of course. What do you think I’m here for?” He crossed the length of the kitchen to grab a fistful of paper towels. While Jane surveyed the damage to her suit, Garrett knelt on the floor to wipe up the mess. It didn’t escape her notice that he appeared to be taking the opportunity to check out her legs. Despite the fact that the pencil skirt went to her knees, Jane felt naked. Before she could stop it, a rush of heat settled to the lower depths of her belly. The sudden sensation of moisture between her legs had nothing to do with being soaked in coffee.
She turned her back to him to put the nearly empty tumbler back on the counter. “Yes, the renovation job that I hired you for, which is taking an eternity by the way.” The words even sounded bitchy to her, but she found that she couldn’t care at the moment.
A loud step resounded from behind her and then: “And I told you that getting started on the project at the ass end of winter was going to slow things down, right? Not to mention the fact that you didn’t care for any of the guys I tried to bring on the job.”
“Yeah, well…”
He got to his feet. “Like I told you, this is a big house. A couple of—”
“Yes, yes, a single woman buying a large house for herself is lunacy, blah, blah.”
“That’s just my opinion and that’s beside the point. All I’m saying is that this wasn’t a one-man job and last I checked, I didn’t have a deadline to maintain.” He walked to the small trash can under the sink and stood closer to her than necessary. Even with the battered wool sweater he wore, she could make out the muscular body underneath. It was only when his eyes quickly scanned her that she came to the realization that if anyone’s body was on display, it was hers.
Jane stepped back and held the soaked white blouse away from her chest. “So—so why are you here so damn early? Besides getting your kicks by scaring the shit out of innocent people.”
She could see him biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. She scowled.
Garrett coughed. “Just trying to keep to a tight work schedule.” He couldn’t keep the mirth out of his voice. “Besides, you’re off to work early yourself.”
“I have a big client workload.”
He backed against the granite topped kitchen island and crossed both arms. “Yeah, but you’ve been leaving earlier and earlier lately.”
Jane had picked up a paper towel and was ineffectively blotting herself with it. She stopped, slowly looking up at him. “How do you know?”
“Hey now, don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not some crazy stalker or anything.”
“Says the man who peers through young ladies’ windows.”
He pointed his index finger at her. “I was just saying hello. It sounds like you’re the paranoid one around here.” He stepped in front of her, far too close for comfort. “Why is that?” His hand went to an errant lock of blonde hair that had come loose from her usually tidy chignon and tucked it behind her ear.
That tiniest touch was almost too much for Jane to bear. As much as she wanted to deny it, there was nothing she wanted more than to tear Garrett’s clothes off with her teeth. She wanted to see him naked, to see if a big dick went with the huge work boots that he always wore.
“Seemed like we had a pretty good rapport going on.” His voice had grown quiet, more intimate than she could stand. “I meant it when I said you looked pretty that day. I hope you don’t think it’s just a come-on.”
That’s exactly what I’m worried about, she thought to herself. Speaking just above a whisper, she replied, “Is that what you’re doing? Here I was thinking that you were just renovating my house.”
The thought of Garrett being naked came back. She lost herself to the fantasy and nearly forgot where she was until lips touched hers. A soft exploration, a nearly virginal kiss if it wasn’t for the expertise behind it. She pulled back and opened her eyes. It was the second time this morning that she had been nearly shocked out of her skin.
“Was that out of line?” he asked. “You let me know.”
She was breathing hard and felt half out of her mind. The part of her brain that wanted to simply be left alone was now a lone dissenting voice in the democracy of her body. Her cunt had developed a pulse of its own. It was begging for attention, as was the rest of her. Jane was finally willing to admit that this was what she had wanted since that flirty moment between the two of them a week and a half ago. Hell, it was what she wanted since she first laid eyes on him.
Laying her hands on his chest, she balled the thick wool material in her fists and brought him closer. That was all the answer he needed. Mouths met again, but any virginal quality that had been present was now gone. Lips pressed hard enough to almost hurt, tongues sought each other. Jane put one hand on his shoulder while the other traveled along the back of his neck to his short, black hair.
With a low moan, Garrett turned them around so her back was now to the island. He placed both hands on her ass and lifted her up so she was resting on it. Hands went to her breasts, kneading them over her still soaked blouse and bra.
Jane groaned. It felt so good that all she could do was lean back on her hands and give herself to him. He brought himself forward and began to lick and nip at her neck. Jane was sure she was about to die from pleasure.
He made his way to her collarbone. “God, I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“Really?” she asked, craning her head down to look at him. “Me, too.”
Their eyes met. “Really?” he asked, a small, satisfied grin on his face.
Jane gave a small nod and smiled back. Her hands began to work on the buttons of her blouse. She wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him all the while, stopping only long enough for him to get several layers of shirts off. By the time the blouse came off, Garrett was shirtless and every bit as delicious as she knew he would be. It was the body of a workingman. She ran her fingers over his chest and his amazing arms. Once she made it to his flat stomach and the line of hair that ran past his waistband, she knew that she couldn’t stop there.
He rushed for her neck again. Jane felt him unclasp her bra in the back. His warm hands cupping her breasts felt like heaven.
She returned the favor, fumbling at his belt and pushing the buckle to the side. While undoing the button and fly, Garrett reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet. He produced a condom and looked at Jane. She nodded. She had every intention of going all the way.
The pants fell to the ground, his impressive erection straining the boxer briefs he wore. Lightly raking her nails across the front of his boxers, she leaned forward to lick and nibble his chest and neck.
Garrett moved his hands to her thighs, which were still covered by the demure work skirt. While Jane toyed with his dick, he pushed the skirt up to her ass, revealing the lacy thong beneath.
“That’s some work outfit you’ve got there, sweetheart.”
“You never know.”
“No,” he said. “I guess you can’t.” He smiled and pulled the thong down and off her legs in one smooth motion.
Jane couldn’t wait anymore. She shoved his boxers down. The work boots did not lie. He was wonderfully hung and his cock was gorgeous. Long and thick-veined flesh. If it weren’t for her perch on the counter, she would have immediately gotten to her knees and kissed it. She hoped that later she would get the chance to see how far she could get it down her throat.
As
it was, she had to be satisfied with giving it a few assured strokes. Garrett shut his eyes tight and gave a soft grunt. Jane began jerking him in earnest, just long enough to see the pearl of precum appear at the tip, before he finally stilled her hand.
“Cheater,” he said.
Jane only gave a self-satisfied smile until a hand snaked up her thigh to her naked pussy. A thumb gave a cursory stroke along the entirety of her vulva before settling on her clit. Jane’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her hand gripped his shoulder as his thumb began to softly massage and make small circles. The other hand stroked the inside of her thigh until the fingers of that hand found her warm, wet opening.
“God, you’re so wet,” he groaned.
She touched her forehead to his chest. “Sorry.”
He scoffed. “Don’t be. I’m sure as hell not,” he said, gently inserting a finger inside of her throbbing cunt. She arched forward. She needed him to fuck her that very moment. With something, anything. She could feel his finger sweeping inside of her, a delicate pressure that was quickly causing her to lose her mind.
Jane ripped the condom wrapper open with her teeth. Hands sliding down the length of him, she slipped it to the base of his cock and pulled him closer. His hand was tangled in her hair and he was kissing her as deeply as possible, still fucking her with his finger. Vaguely she realized that she was panting in a very un-ladylike manner. Another minute of this and Jane knew that she was going to come.
As though he could sense the nearness of her orgasm, he removed his hand and came forward. The head of his cock played at her entrance. Jane had run out of patience. With her hands and legs, she pulled him forward, his dick quickly easing in. Garrett gave a loud, almost painful-sounding groan. Jane’s back arched and she gave a silent scream.
“Take it easy on me, baby,” Garrett said through gritted teeth. His hips started working, in and out. A slow but steady rhythm built, layering on top of itself, over and over.