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He glimpsed toward her.That’s one way to get your cock to take a step back—you’re about to fuck the woman of your dreams after a long dry spell, and you blurt out you love her. Way to go, Jake, he thought as he changed lanes, glad the traffic was breaking up on I-5 even though he knew I-80 would be a parking lot. He lived in the area called the Fabulous Forties—fairly close to downtown and usually only a twenty-minute drive from the airport. But traffic crawled on the weekends when folks from the Bay Area were heading to Tahoe.
Rubbing the leather on her seat, she said, “This cream leather is so pretty,” searching for something to say to break the weighted stillness that had inhabited the car. “I like the black piping on it. Is it custom?” she asked, her fingers running along the edges of the seat as if she were studying the craftsmanship.
He wanted to laugh watching her, thinking how quickly things changed between them from rabbits crazy to fuck to her inquiring about his custom upholstery like she was buying a car. “Yes, it’s custom, butter leather with black piping. I plan on hanging on to this car ‘til I leave Sacramento,” he said, keeping his tone neutral.
“Nice.” She looked up at him, not smiling, searching his face as he stared at the road. “How long do you think that will be?”
“They’ll probably hang on to me for a little longer after winning the Super Bowl. It’s a pretty cool city. I mean, it doesn’thave that Austin vibe yet, but Tahoe is close…so is Napa and San Francisco.”
“Fun, I’ve never been to any of those places,” she said.
“I’ll take you to all of them,” he said, regaining his footing. “They are all beautiful with some pretty romantic hotels…Tahoe is breathtaking,” he added. He was waiting to tell her he had a night booked there for her birthday.
“Aww, you would know,Romeo,” she mused, a flippant air to her tone.
He shot her a look. “Hey, was that a compliment or…”
“Compliment. I’m hoping to take advantage of that side of Jake Skyler,” she proclaimed with a big smile, winking.
He exhaled, hearing the friskiness in her tone, swinging back to the sensual tug that pulled between them.
He returned her grin. “And I plan to indulge you, Sweets.” He hadn’t considered himself romantic in the past, but with her, it was different. He wanted things to matter.
“…Looking forward to it.”
“Should’ve asked earlier—we’re only a few minutes ‘til my place—I have some snacks, fruit, cheese, stuff for breakfast, but I didn’t pick up anything more, not yet. I kinda ran out of time. So if you’re really hungry, we can stop…” He sounded edgy.
Reaching across the seat, she firmly put her hand on his bicep. “Please, don’t stop anywhere,” she said softly, her eyes focused on his face, watching the muscle in his jaw tick as if her simple touch could undo him. “I’ve been waiting to get you naked again since October—that’s five months.” Her hand tightened on his arm. “Five months of fantasizing about your cock inside me while getting myself off…Food can wait, mate.”
A jolt of laughter left his mouth. “Bawdy, bad girl.”
Her hand slid down his arm, and she purposefully let it drop to his upper thigh at the junction of his pelvis. “Is thata compliment, Mr. Skyler or…” Her voice was low and sultry, mixing with her touch, bringing his cock right back to attention.
He shifted in his seat, his hardened shaft pushing against the zipper of his jeans. “Compliment, definitely.”
Moving her fingers over his jeans near the growing bulge, she leaned forward with purpose, making sure the upper part of her tits was exposed. “Good, 'cause I’m ready to show you just how bad and bawdy I can be.” Clicking the seatbelt off, she scooted closer to him, her fingers finding the hard ridge of his erection that strained against his jeans. Letting her mouth fall open, she lowered her eyes to his trapped cock.
He grabbed her hand, pushing it away. “Girl, we’re not going to make it to the front door at this rate,” he spat, nodding to a gray house with black trim in front of them. “Here,” he said, turning into the sloping driveway leading up a small hill. He parked in front of the garage, explaining, “I can’t get a car in there until I work through some of the stacked boxes.”
Opening her door, she accepted his outstretched hand, needing to steady herself against him in her high, narrow heels. “Okay, so I’ll nix the heels next time,” she said as he helped her hoist herself from the SUV.
“Heels are always worth it,” he said, steadying her. “I’ll get the luggage.” He went to the back, grabbed her bags, and led her to the front door. He felt like a teenager again, uncertain and anxious, which was ridiculous since they had already been together.
She walked through the door. “Wow, this place is deceiving. It looks like a small cottage from the outside, then you get in and it’s so modern and it feels so big.” He led her to the kitchen, which was at the center of an open area containing the living room, dining area, and front room. The only furniture she could see included a large gray leather couch, along with a thick bright blue and orange patterned rug that lay on the floor in front ofit. The floors were made of gray, white-washed, wide-planked wood that flowed throughout the entire first floor, as far as she could see. The kitchen cabinets were black with stainless steel handles, and the counters were made of white granite with veins of gray running through them. But what really captured the eye was a large island that looked to be the size of a bed—its base was built from gray wood, topped by a large slab of pure white marble. “So beautiful. I love the white marble.” She pointed toward the massive white island that acted as a connecting point between the kitchen and the large living room.
Jake left the luggage by the opening to a hallway, taking her by the hand toward the kitchen. “It’s actually soapstone. If you look closely, you’ll see some gray and variations of color in it. The counters are granite, but I wanted a different material for the island. I looked at marble, but it’s more porous, and for a kitchen, I wanted something a little tougher.”
“The whole place is so unexpected.” She smiled, turning her head to take in the expanse of the downstairs.Just like Jakeleapt into her mind.
“It was a big remodel,” he explained, opening the refrigerator and pulling out an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne. “I bought this place over a year ago, but it took a long time for me to decide on the architectural renderings…I wanted the whole first floor open with a private master that opens to the back yard. Just pumped I don’t have to live with three other guys this season.” He smiled. “A glass of bubbly?”
She leaned against the island. “Yes, please. So will you make this sort of an eating counter on one side?” she asked, rubbing the white soapstone.
“Yes, I need to get low bar stools for both sides. I figure I can seat six here, then maybe build a large dining table. I wanna see if I can make something or get one made out of a large slab ofCalifornia redwood.” He detailed his vision, pouring champagne into two glasses, then handing her one.
He stepped into her, trapping her body between him and the island. “So here’s to your future.” He clinked his glass to hers. They both took a sip, eyes locking on each other, then his fingers were on the fourth button, unbuttoning her trench coat, allowing it to fall open. Her breasts pushed against the lace bodice as she arched into him.
“Think I should toast to you.” Her voice was breathy, almost panting, as she watched his large hand scoop beneath the bottom of the silk teddy. “Oh, oh,” she whispered as his hand clutched her crotch.
