Big Talker

 

Vin hadn’t liked the look on Piper’s face during dinner. Something spooked her again and he didn’t know what. But he’d seen her pause. He’d seen her wait and assess her body. He saw the hair rise on her arms. It was the little things that most people didn’t notice. The things that kept you alert. That kept you alive.

He thought he was done feeling these things. He thought he’d steered clear of it now. But he’d thought wrong.

These were things that never went away.

Things he noticed everywhere he went. Whether he was experiencing them or witnessing, it didn’t matter. It was always there now.

Nothing seemed out of place at the restaurant. Nothing to alert him. He wanted to brush it off as nothing, but didn’t and wouldn’t.

For now though, he wasn’t going to focus on it and would try to look into her background some more.

They walked back to his car, holding hands again. He’d never been much for holding hands in his life, but didn’t mind when she grabbed his earlier or just now.

Maybe she needed comfort again.

Nah. She needed something else. He knew that and he wanted it just as much.

He’d been putting it off. Waiting until he was positive she was okay with it. That he wasn’t pressuring her.

He was positive now.

When they got back in the building, she asked him to come into her apartment and he was more than willing. Then she pulled him into her arms and kissed him with everything she had. For all it was worth. Until all his brain cells settled right in the front of his pants and she could feel it against her. She lifted her head and said, “Do you want to see my bedroom?”

He swung her up in his arms and made his way there. He didn’t bother to look at the decor. He didn’t care about seeing that. All he did was walk to the bed and lay her on it, then come down on top of her, covering her completely, knowing that tonight was going to end exactly as he’d been hoping for.

“Vin,” she said, and he loved the sound of his name on her lips. She didn’t say it often, but when she did, he listened.

“Yes,” he said, moving his lips from her mouth to her throat.

“Don’t you dare stop tonight.”

He laughed. “I had no intention of it.”

“Thank God.”

“God has nothing to do with what I have planned for you.”

“You’re a big talker. I’d hoped that.”

He was done talking, though. He had more important things to do. More important things to focus on. Like removing her clothing.

Sliding his hands around her waist, he pulled her shirt out of the waistband on her skirt. He swore she wore this fitted outfit to torture him tonight. She didn’t have a lot of curves on her, but enough.

Enough that he was eying them most of the dinner and waiting until he could get back here and see if they were as soft as he hoped. If they tasted as good as he’d been dreaming of.

And when his hands touched her skin under her shirt, when they slid up further and roamed over the silk of her bra, then he knew.

He knew it was going to be everything he’d been thinking of for weeks now, since she first knocked on his door holding his mail.

He slid his hands behind her back and unhooked her bra, then pulled it off with her shirt, over her head and tossed it on the floor.

She wasn’t big, but she was perfect. Round, soft, and just begging for his mouth, saying, “Give me a nibble. Take a taste. Fill your face. Don’t stop until you’ve had enough.”

So he did. He tasted her. Pulled her puckered nipple into his mouth and sucked. Enjoyed. Fed himself and groaned when her hips lifted up and met his. When her hands moved into his hair and started to yank a bit. When her leg started to move up and down the side of his.

She was full of passion and she was ripe and ready to be picked. Ready to be eaten. Ready to be devoured.

He was starving.

Moving to the other side, he did more of the same. Her body was twitching under his, squirming around more than he wished, but it seemed she couldn’t stay still. At least she wasn’t trying to talk to him. Letting him focus on what he was seeing, doing, and feeling.

Lifting her hips, he glided his hands behind her, found the zipper of her skirt and pulled it down, then helped her wiggle out of it. She was left in a white thong that did absolutely nothing to cover anything on her. She might as well have been naked under her black skirt. He’d had no clue and was glad he didn’t. They wouldn’t have lasted very long in the restaurant if he’d known.

Her nails were now leaving marks on his arms, which was more than fine with him. She was almost branding him, like his grandfather did to the steers on the cattle ranch he’d lived on. Making sure everyone knew who they belonged to.

He needed to taste more of her. All of her. Every bit and every essence, and he had no intention of stopping.

The thong followed her skirt, leaving her only in her shoes. He’d love to leave them on, but figured another day, another time, so he made quick work of them too.

Then he found his target. Nice and neat. Trimmed just the way he liked it. Not bare, but not much more than indicating, “I take a lot of care with my body and I did it just for you.”

He spread her wide, he looked his fill, and then he lowered his head and took a lick. Just a quick one, then another. Top to bottom, all of it. Wet and glistening and just beckoning for more. Like the glaze on one of her fancy desserts. Sweet and addicting. Making him want to eat it all before he got to the center. Before he got to the heart of it.

She was moaning now. The comforter was moving under him, gripped in her hands as she held on. “Vin. Just send me over once. Just do it,” she almost shouted.

“It will be more than once,” he said.

“Promises, promises,” she said, almost squealing now.

He was done talking. He was working. He was concentrating. Words had no place for what he was going to do. What he’d been dying to do.

One finger slid in, then another. Tighter than he expected but not enough to make him worry. He’d get her there. He’d loosen her up.

Then his mouth went right back on her. Sucking, nipping, and she was screeching now while he moved his fingers in and out. Then there was nothing. No sounds. No movements. Nothing more than a pulsing around his fingers and some heavy breathing.

He rolled off the bed and started to undress with fast and jerky movements. He didn’t know if he’d ever done anything fast or jerky in his life. Maybe when he lost his virginity all those years ago. But not since.

Somehow Piper had him losing control. More so when he grabbed the condom out of his wallet and his eyes landed on hers. Wide and teasing. Her smile filling her face. Her finger curling in a motion for him to join her on the bed.

He opened the condom and got ready, then started to climb back on the bed, but she didn’t give him a chance, and yanked him there. Right on top of her, then wrapped her legs around his hips.

“You made promises, you better fill them.”

He did. He filled them. He filled her. Hard and fast, and felt her squeezing him tight. Her legs around his hips, her arms around his waist and maybe something even around his heart.

He pushed that terrifying thought aside and got back to the matter at hand. The sexy sounds she was making. Her hips moving up and withdrawing, teasing him. Testing him. Making him not take it slow, but instead throw it all out the window and take a leap and see if she’d go with him.

She did. The harder he slammed into her, the faster she met him. The bed was creaking, their breathing was loud, and her nails were probably drawing blood. He didn’t care about any of that.

All he cared about was keeping his promise. And he did, sending them both spiraling out of control.

Hours later, when he knew she was passed out cold—after they’d gone through two more condoms and a lot more positions—he slipped out of her bed, dressed, then made his way to his own apartment. Hoping to get some sleep, but knowing he wouldn’t.