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Fuck yeah. Now.
Karyn pulsed around his length so wildly he couldn’t hold back. He groaned and thrust hard, surely leaving marks, probably ripping out her hair while he stroked into her without reserve. She let out a sound crossed between a wail and a scream, her spasms extending when he changed the angle. Christ, she was coming again. He buried himself to the hilt, his cock jerking as he drained himself into the condom. Giving her all of himself. More than she was probably ready to take.
He collapsed on top of her, the scent of her sweat-sheened skin making him want to burrow deeper and never leave. Eventually he made himself roll over but he didn’t open his eyes. Too much effort. Even breathing took all his concentration.
“You fucking killed me,” he said in between bouts of mutual wheezing.
Karyn turned over to face him and blew away a damp curl. “I pretended to be really mad. Next time I’ll work on furious.”
Chuckling, he slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. Only then did he realize crushed grapes clung to her breasts. He bent his head and flicked her nipple, savoring the sweet fruit and even sweeter woman. She moaned and threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him against her until he’d consumed every last drop of juice and mashed chunk of grape.
“Bet I’m so clean I sparkle,” she murmured. “You, on the other hand…”
He glanced down, noting the cheese he now wore as a spread on his knees. Who the hell knew where the dishes and the wine bottle had gone.
“Think we’re gonna need another shower,” he said with a grin.
* * * * *
Karyn awakened to the sound of bells. Church bells? A wedding?
They continued to chime until she discerned it wasn’t bells, plural, but the doorbell. Of her house. She rubbed the cobwebs out of her eyes and ignored it, figuring it could be a new paperboy or something. When the bell rang for, oh, the seventh time or so, she realized her visitor with pathetic timing had no intention of leaving.
Jeff tightened his arm around her waist. “Want me to handle it?”
She smiled. God, it was nice having a man around again. Especially one like Jeff. And what that meant she had no intention of dwelling on.
“No, I’ll get the door. You’re a guest.” She slid away from him, already missing his body heat as she reached for the robe hanging from one of the bedposts. The blue terry cloth covered her from neck to ankles, but Jeff’s attention as she tied the belt made her skin prickle with awareness. “Go back to sleep.”
On the way to the door, she tried to fluff her tangled hair. She quickly gave up. Hopefully she wouldn’t horrify anyone.
“Who is it?” she called as her bare foot hit the cold hardwood floor of the foyer.
“Lon.”
Her hand fisted around the banister. Terrific.
She inhaled a deep breath and marched forward, determined not to be deterred in her own home. At least it would be hers for a while longer.
“Hi,” she said as she pulled open the door and squinted in the early morning sunlight. “You’re early.” She made herself smile. “By about six hours.”
He cocked his head, rolling the newspaper he held between his palms. His brown hair fell in disordered waves around his rawboned face—tousled by Daisy’s hands perhaps—and he wore mirrored sunglasses that hid his dark eyes. His eyes were always sleepy, always bored. At first she’d assumed it had to be an affectation. But she’d slowly, painfully learned his cool disdain came naturally.
“You said morning. It’s almost seven. That’s morning, right?” He tossed the paper on the hall table and scratched his smooth jaw. “You have my phone?”
“Yes, I do.” She bit her lip and wondered how long Jeff would stay upstairs. Before she’d finished the thought, she heard thundering footsteps on the creaky steps. “Come in,” she said, opening the door wider just as her lover stepped into the front hall.
He’d put on his jeans. She was grateful for that much. But he hadn’t bothered with a shirt and definitely didn’t bother hiding the disgusted curl of his lip.
“Jeff, you know Lon,” she said, moving back as the two men stared at each other. If someone threw a punch she wasn’t about to get caught in the crossfire.
She took the opportunity provided by the heavy silence that hung between them to study the two men. Jeff was shorter, stockier, more built. He also had harder edges. Even the glint in his gorgeous eyes spoke of his willingness to take a swing to defend her honor. She didn’t think he waded into most of the messes he came upon but if necessary, he wouldn’t be a bystander. He’d get down and dirty with the best of them.
Lon loomed over them both, though he didn’t have an extra pound on him from his years of careful diet and exercise. He never spoke a cross word or grew impatient. No, he simply checked out. Even the reflective surface of his sunglasses offered a perfect mirror of his personality. Hot-blooded he wasn’t. At least not with her.
“I know him. How’s Daisy this morning?” Jeff asked,
crossing his arms over his chest.
