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“So I assume we’re having…a hard sausage sampler?”
“Please. I would never be so obvious. I believe the theme of tonight’s menu is Things You’ve Never Tried Before.” I pick up the bottle of water and pour her a glass. No booze tonight. I don’t need it. Don’t want it.
She raises an eyebrow and glances at the appetizer tray. “I hate to break it to you, but I’ve had berries, bread, and cheese before.”
“Fine.” I spread one of the cheeses on a slice of bread, top it with a raspberry, and hand it to her. “What haven’t you had before?”
“Um…frog legs,” she says around a bite. “And sex. But I’ve never much wanted to try frog legs.”
“Got it. No on frog legs, yes on sex.” Jesus, I like this girl. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep to my side of the sectional while we eat.
“That would be my preference.”
“Noted.” I pick up a strawberry from the tray, hold it out to her, and enjoy the feel of her soft lips against my fingers as she closes her mouth around it. “Let’s talk about that.”
She swallows. “All right.”
“I was thinking we should drill down on the act—so to speak. What have you done? How far have you gone? What did you like? What didn’t you like?”
Another strawberry disappears between her vanilla-flavored lips. I fight an urge to chase it with my tongue because I want to hear what she says. I want to know. I don’t want to move too fast or make another misstep. Mostly, I don’t want to cause her any pain.
“What have you done?” She rests her head on the cushion and looks over at me. “How far have you gone?”
Shit. I really hadn’t planned on getting into a game of “I Never” with her. When it comes to sex, there’s very little I’ve never done, but that fact suddenly strikes me as sad and sordid. “I want to make it good for you, Kendall. That’s why I ask.”
Her smile returns, just a bit challenging. “And I want to make it good for you. It’s been four years since I’ve done anything sexual with a guy. But before that, Mason and I did everything except have intercourse. I’m not without skills, they’re just rusty.”
Mention of Mason reminds me of how important tonight is. “I don’t want to hurt you.” There. I said it. So much for finesse.
“I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
“Because…?” I’ve never had a candid conversation like this with a girl before, but it’s necessary. I won’t cross any line she doesn’t want to cross.
The color rises in her cheeks, but she returns my stare straight on. “Because I didn’t hurt myself the other day when I was thinking about you and taking care of business solo-style.”
“Only once? That’s it? I must be in the hundreds by now, starting with the night we met.”
“You passed out the night you met me.”
“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 confessions 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.
