Chapter Twelve
Best. Fucking. Answer. Ever.
Trevor straightened on the couch, lifting Natalie along with him, and guiding her legs around his hips. Before she could get her bearings or settle in, he slipped one hand beneath her ass and stood, hugging her lush body tight to his with the other.
“Trevor,” she whisper-scolded as she glanced toward her mother’s room. “What are you doing?”
“Not gonna play with you on the couch like a sixteen-year-old boy when I can lay you out and take my time on a bed not twenty feet away.” He hefted her higher and gave her butt a meaningful squeeze. “Wrap me up, darlin’. Gonna make sure you sleep so hard tonight, you won’t even know your first name when you wake up.”
She gasped, studied his face for all of a second, then giggled as she locked her ankles at the small of his back.
Damn, but he liked the sound of her laugh. Lighthearted and sweet like the rest of her, but a sound she didn’t make nearly enough. He’d give her that too, if she let him. Right after he made her moan and scream loud enough to make her mother blush.
He shut the door behind them and pressed her back against it, resting his forehead on hers and savoring the press of her body against his. He’d been with beautiful women. Fit, shapely women who turned heads even when they strolled out of the house in sweats and T-shirts, but none of them felt like Natalie. Everywhere he was solid, she was soft, molding against him in the most welcoming grasp of his life. Christ, he hadn’t even kissed her yet and his cock was hard enough to be a skyscraper’s cornerstone.
“Trevor?” She tightened her arms around his neck and her fingers tangled in the band that kept his hair back. “You okay?”
Perfect. Outstanding on a scale he didn’t dare pause to evaluate. “Left okay way behind when you opened your front door in your pajamas.” Just the idea of her tooling around without a bra on had given him a semi and all kinds of sly ideas on how to cop a feel. Feeling her natural and unbound next to him on the couch had been a sick but delicious torture.
Sliding his hands out from under her ass, he gripped her hips and eased her feet to the floor. “Only get once to have you the first time. Not gonna screw it up by rushing through it.” Keeping his body close to hers so she couldn’t slip away, he smoothed his hands up her arms and let out a slow breath. Only the barest glow from the parking lot lights trickled through the dark room, leaving her tiny form mostly in shadows. “I want to see you.”
Her muscles tightened, and her breath caught. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea to start with.”
Like hell it wasn’t. He toyed with the thin, soft straps holding her top in place, sorely tempted to tug them down and fill his palms with her breasts. “Imagined you, Nat.” He skimmed his fingertips beneath the straps and down along the edge that covered her chest. “Felt you against me that night and filled in the blanks with so damned many dirty scenarios you’d blush for weeks if you ever saw them.”
She hesitated and her fingertips dug into his shoulders. “I’ve had a kid. It does things to a woman. I doubt I’m anywhere near what you’re used to.”
“You trust me?”
Another pause, this one ending with a cautious “Yes.”
“I want to build on that. Want you to see with your own eyes what your body does to me. Kinda hard for you to mark my appreciation in the dark.” He cupped the back of her neck and let his fingers tangle in her hair. Fuck if it wasn’t as soft and slick as the sexy pajamas she had on. “It make you feel better if I go first?”
A shiver moved through her, and her voice came out thick and raspy. “Okay.”
Damn, but he liked that sound almost as much as he liked her acquiescence. Come to think of it, the only words he’d like hearing more were yes, sir and harder.
He forced himself back a step, circled her wrist with his fingers, and pulled her against him the same as he would for a casual two-step. “Then relax. We’re just going to play and have fun. Only what feels good, remember?”
She splayed her hands high on his chest and angled her face to his, easily following his lead as he slow-danced her toward the bed. “Easy for you to say. You’ve done this in the last few years.”
Meaning she hadn’t, and fuck if that knowledge didn’t make him want to knock tonight out of the park even more. The backs of her knees hit the mattress, and he lifted her onto the bed. “Sweetheart, you might think you’re rusty, but the way you kiss, you were born for this.” With one hand holding him propped above her and his knees caging her on each side, he dipped low and teased her lips with his. “Now give me your mouth, darlin’. Time to get you back in the saddle.”
“You’re bad,” she muttered, a little playful but a whole lot breathy.
He palmed the back of her head. “Not yet, but I’m working on it.” He slanted his mouth over hers, swallowing her gasp and savoring the press of her plump lips against his. God, he loved the taste of her—honey-sweet yet unique to her alone. Loved the way she opened for him and tangled her tongue with his, as easy and natural as breathing.
She whimpered and dug her fingers into his shoulders, urging him to close the distance he kept between them.
“Easy,” he murmured against her jaw, licking and kissing his way down the line of her neck. “Got all night to give you what you need.”
She angled her neck for better access and fisted his shirt. “How about if we do a quick run the first time and explore later?”
He chuckled and nuzzled the sweet spot behind her ear. “The only thing quick happening tonight is me getting my mouth on your pussy.”
Rolling her hips, she moaned and speared her fingers in his hair. “Trevor.”
Fuuuck. The only thing better than a sexy firecracker like Natalie when it came to fooling around was a sexy firecracker who got off on dirty talk. Damned if her response didn’t leave him cranked and ready to muddy the waters. He grinned against the delicate skin of her neck, slid his hand down her spine and gave her butt a quick squeeze. “Now slide higher up the bed and let me shuck my clothes. I’ve got work to do.”
“Ugh.” She dropped her hands to the bed with a melodramatic flair. “You ever heard the term cruel and unusual punishment?”
Oh, yeah. Playful Natalie was going to be a whole lot of fun. He rolled away from her, perched on the edge of the bed and toed off his boots. “I’m not much into pain, but if that’s a sly way of you asking me to spank your sweet ass, I’m game.”
Her soft giggle sounded behind him and the bed shifted, but instead of scooting back toward the pillows like he’d asked, she moved in behind him, snagged his ponytail holder and pulled it free.
He smiled into the darkness and tugged his socks off. Outside of the tentative touch she’d started their little dance with on the couch, it was the most aggressive move she’d ever made with him. He liked it. A hell of a lot. He stood, tossed his billfold on the nightstand and switched on the bedside lamp. “Feelin’ frisky, are you?”
For a second, she blinked against the sudden light, then zeroed in on his hands working the buttons on his shirt. She bit her lower lip. “Maybe.”
Maybe his ass. More like way past go and ready to pounce if the gleam in her eyes was any indication. He peeled his shirt free, tossed it aside, and crawled onto the bed. Stretching out beside her, he tucked his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles. “You want to play, then do your worst.”
Her lips parted and her eyes got huge, their focus rooted to his left side. “You’ve got a tattoo.”
“That surprise you?”
“Yes.” She frowned and studied the richly detailed phoenix spanning his ribs. “I mean, no. I mean...it looks right on you. I just never imagined...” Her gaze shot to his and she snapped her mouth shut. “Sorry, that sounds bad.”
He grinned. “Darlin’, if you’ve been trying to imagine what I look like naked, that is anything but bad. Now are you gonna put your creativity to work, or make us both suffer longer?”
She cocked her head to one side. “I can do anything?”
“Make me hurt. Whatever moves you. Just remember, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”
Slow as molasses in winter, her gaze slid down his torso. Rolling to her knees beside him, she lifted the dog tags he’d worn damn near every day of his life for the last ten years away from his chest and cradled them in her palm. Unlike standard-issue military tags, they were heavy platinum and etched in black with the Haven symbol Jace had designed eons ago. “What are these?”
“A gift from my brothers.”
She ran her thumb along the image and shifted her gaze back to his tattoo. “You worked them into the design.” Releasing the tags, she traced her fingertip along the subtle Haven details he’d incorporated in the bird’s belly. “You’re the phoenix and they’re a part of you.”
His stomach clenched, the simple torture of her touch and the piercing accuracy of her assessment knocking him off center. Less than five minutes she’d seen the reminder he’d had inked on his skin, and she’d zeroed in on its meaning. The only people who’d understood before had been his brothers. “Something like that.”
Emboldened, she rose higher and straddled his hips. “You don’t want to talk about it?”
He fisted his hands to keep them behind his head and swallowed hard. “Don’t mind sharing. Just having a hard time focusing on anything except you getting your hands and mouth on my body.” It wasn’t a complete lie. He truly craved the contact as much as he needed air, but in one simple observation she’d cut so close to the heart of him it was hard to breathe. If he didn’t get them back on a lighthearted track, shit was going to get way more explosive than was good for either of them.
Her mouth quirked to one side, a mix of a smile and a cute mew that spelled all kinds of inspired trouble. “I seem to remember wanting you to get on with business not five minutes ago, and you turned me down.”
“Wasn’t turning you down, darlin’. Was seeing to logistics.” He uncrossed his ankles and bent his knees.
The movement shifted her off balance and she caught herself with hands on his pecs.
“The sooner you get my jeans off,” he grumbled low, “the sooner I can get you off.”
“Oh.” Her eyes slid shut and she wiggled her hips, grinding her sex over his engorged cock. “Hard to argue with logistics.”
He growled and gripped her hips. “Baby, you don’t take control and get us going, I’m taking over and paying you back times twenty.”
“Okay, okay, okay.” She mock pouted and shimmied backward, forcing his legs straight so she had room to work. Leaning in close, she pulled in a low, sexy breath and pressed her lips to his sternum. Her words came out husky and hot against skin. “Have I mentioned you’re bossy?”
“Once or twice,” he croaked, his thoughts too tangled up by the press of her mouth and the way she licked a path down his belly to come up with any witty retorts.
With nimble fingers, she worked his button and zipper. The denim parted, giving his brief-covered dick much-needed breathing room, but before he could appreciate the relief, she cupped him through the cotton and squeezed.
“Fuck.” He flexed against her palm and fisted his hands at his sides, the mix of her bold grip and the open wonder on her face drawing his nuts up tight. “Remind me never to piss you off. You play this dirty when we’re on good terms, I’ll never live through makeup sex.”
She lifted her innocent gaze to his and licked her lower lip. “Was that bad?”
“Oh no. Not bad at all. Only one thing that would make it better.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He covered her hand on his cock, guided it up and then under his briefs. “Now it’s perfect.”
Undiluted hunger flashed behind her near-black eyes, and her tiny fingers wrapped around his shaft, the heat of her palm scalding his skin in the abso-fucking-lutely best torture known to man.
Lifting his butt, he shoved his briefs and jeans past his hips. Only when he’d worked them to his thighs did she snap out of her stupor and help him finish the job, tugging the denim free. The heavy fabric had barely hit the floor before she resumed her place, one knee on either side of his legs. She traced a bulging vein along the top side of his cock in a barely there touch. The light contact shouldn’t have been so shocking after her firm grasp of seconds before, but it powered through him like a lightning bolt.
“I think you’re right.” She reached the end of him and circled the pre-come pooled there. When she swiped her slick finger beneath the sensitive ridge, it was all he could do not to buck her off him. “Lights are a great idea.”
“Glad to hear it, darlin’, ’cause now it’s my turn.” Before she could protest, he knifed up, gripped her hips and dragged her so she straddled his cock. He toyed with one of the tiny straps, running his finger beneath it and teasing the sensitive flesh along the top swell of her breast.
Bracing herself with hands on his shoulders, she circled her hips. “I didn’t get to enjoy my turn very long.”
Trevor tugged the strap down and let it hang loose around her bicep. “You want me to stretch out and let you explore, I’ll give you carte blanche later.” Much later. As in after he’d felt her come around his cock and they were too boneless to think, let alone talk.
He lifted his gaze to hers and guided the other strap over her shoulder. The loose top slithered down her torso and pooled in a featherlight circle around her waist.
“Perfect.” It came out as reverent as he meant it, his heart urging him to step shit up and add some tactile appreciation to the mix. Since the first time he and his buds from school had pilfered a dirty magazine, he’d known he was a tit man. Big, little, it didn’t matter. He loved them all. But Nat’s rack was a thing of beauty. The gold standard that would forever make every other woman’s breasts pale in comparison—natural and full with dark nipples that practically begged for his mouth. He skimmed his fingertips up her rib cage and dragged his thumbs along the skin beneath them.
A shiver worked through her torso and the already tight points hardened further. Her eyes slid shut and she rolled her shoulders back, silently urging him for more. “Trevor.”
“Yeah, babe, I got you.” He trailed a path up the center of each breast and circled her areolas, keeping the contact light. He pinched each tip, not enough to hurt but enough to gauge her response.
She groaned and let her head drop back.
“More?”
“Yes.”
Thank fuck, because the way his body was thrumming he wasn’t sure he could maintain gentle for long. He rolled her nipples between his fingers and increased the pressure, gently tugging her toward him. “Lean over here, sweetheart. Need these sweet nipples in my mouth.”
She moved quickly, a breathy but schoolgirl-cute “Okay” whispering past her lips as she tilted forward and gave him what he wanted. He loved that about her, too. No games. No sexual posturing and trying and put herself in the best light possible. Just adorable, sexy Natalie eager to dive in and enjoy.
Filling his palms with her heavy breasts, he pushed them together and got to work, licking and sucking to his heart’s content.
Her hips rolled with each draw, and her nails bit into his shoulders. When he scraped his teeth along one peak, her head dropped forward and her dark hair spilled around them. Christ, it was like he’d died and gone to heaven, her flowery scent and the taste of her skin rocketing his need off the charts. At this rate he wouldn’t get his cock inside her without coming, and no way in hell was that happening until he got a taste of her pussy.
Not giving her time to brace, he rolled them to her back, hooked his fingers in her pajamas as he sat back on his heels and peeled them down her legs in one unbroken motion.
It was a bad move, one he should have known better than to make given how the sight of her tits alone had thrown him into outer-orbit, but fuck if he could do anything about it now. He was too shell-shocked. Too utterly undone to force his slack jaw shut and ease her into the slow appreciation she deserved.
Uncertainty quavered in her voice. “Trevor?”
He couldn’t find the right words. Wanted to desperately, but he doubted any language had words ample to cover how gorgeous she was. He forced his gaze to hers, taking time to soak in every generous curve and her creamy skin along the way. “We are never, ever doing this with the lights off.”
She smiled, relief and that innocent goodness that made her who she was flickering back to life.
He centered himself between her knees, smoothed his hands up her outer thighs, and squeezed the voluptuous slope between her waist and hips. A faint scar arched low on her abdomen, one that some men might have considered a flaw on an otherwise perfect canvas, but all he could do was marvel at how she made it look sexy. He dipped low and traced it with his lips. “No words, Natalie. Not one that does you justice.”
“You don’t have to say that. I know having a kid changed me.”
“Got no idea how you looked before and don’t really care,” he murmured against her skin. He licked lower, painting a wicked path toward her sex. “My guess though, it just made a great thing even better. Remind me to give your kid a pat on the back the next time I see him.”
She propped up on her elbows, but her body shook with the effort. Even her voice held a subtle tremor. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, darlin’, I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” Poised right over her mound, he slid his hands under her ass, angled her sex for his mouth and lifted his gaze. “Now lay back and let me work.”
He wasn’t sure which of them moaned louder, him when her taste exploded in his mouth, or her from the way he speared his tongue deep, but one thing was for damned sure—he wasn’t coming up for air anytime soon.
Natalie speared her fingers in his hair and held on tight, grinding her honey-coated sex against him. “Trevor!”
He smiled against her flesh and circled her clit with his tongue. He was probably going to hell for making her shout with her momma not thirty feet away, but for right now she was mindless and he fucking loved it. He slid a finger inside her and nearly came when her walls clamped down and fluttered around them.
Oh, yeah. Totally ready. Primed and ready to fly. He tongued her clit and added another finger, building a rhythm to match his pounding heart. “Grab my billfold, Nat. Need a condom.”
She rolled her head on the pillow and fumbled for the nightstand.
The second her hand closed around his wallet, he surrounded her clit with his lips and suckled deep.
She fumbled the billfold to the bed and her torso bowed, riding the none-too-gentle tug of his mouth and the pleasure that went with it. Beautiful. Utterly open and guileless.
“Don’t you dare come,” he growled, grappling for his billfold where she’d dropped it by her side and pumping his fingers inside her with the other. He flipped it open, pried out a condom and tore it open with his teeth. “When you go over, I’m going with you.”
She pried her eyes open and the dazed pleasure behind her gaze nearly forced his release. Sliding her hand down her belly, she dipped her fingers between her thighs and toyed with her clit, still slick from his mouth. “Hurry.”
The profoundly erotic act locked him up tight. His cock pulsed with the need to slide inside her wet heat and claim her in the most fundamental way possible. With shaking hands, he gloved up faster than was wise, braced above her and slicked his throbbing glans through her drenched folds. His voice came out broken and deep, his lungs barely able to function from the tension gripping his chest. “This what you want? My cock inside you?”
She moaned and arched, widening her legs and baring the pretty pink folds of her sex as her fingers speared downward and grazed either side of his cock. “I don’t want it. I need it.”
Christ, what a sound. A plea and a demand all rolled up into one. He notched the tip of his shaft inside her and hitched her leg high against his hip. “Hang on.”
He powered forward, filling her in one bold thrust he felt clear to his toes. In the space of a second, his whole reality shifted. All that mattered was the velvet heat surrounding him and Nat’s ragged, needy mewls. The slap of their hips and the hedonistic tap of his balls against her perineum. This wasn’t just casual sex. This was a no-holds-barred earth-shattering thing of beauty. The kind of carnal thunderbolt teenage boys fantasized about and grown men dreamed of. He couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t drive deep enough to mark her the way he wanted.
Dropping back to his heels, he palmed her hips, angled upward, and drove his cockhead against the sweet spot inside her.
She dug her heels into his flanks and squeezed her ripe tits, every thrust making them jiggle inside her grip. Christ, he could come just from looking at her. The heavy weight of her stare, how she watched them move together, and the sight of his shaft pistoning in and out of her pretty pink sex.
He licked his thumb and teased her swollen clit. “That’s it, sweetheart. Take my cock. Come for me and milk it dry.”
“Trevor!” Her hips jerked in time with her startled cry and her pussy clenched hard, pulsing around his shaft so hard he couldn’t breathe.
He drove to the hilt and let go, rolling his hips against hers while his release jetted free. With every throb, the silky heat of her and her sweet whimpers marked him, branded a part of him he hadn’t known existed.
Slow and easy, he rode the waves, shifting his torso forward and savoring the soft press of her breasts against his chest. The feel of her hands along his back and her legs banded around his waist. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled her wildflower scent, the rapid thump of her pulse wild against his lips.
Her fingertips trailed up his spine then tangled in his hair. “You okay?” Her voice was breathy and shook to match the subtle tremors in her thighs.
Hell no, he wasn’t okay, but damned if he’d tell her that. He’d promised her light and by God, that’s what he’d give her, because no way in hell was he letting her get away. Not until they’d both had ample opportunity to work this need out of their systems.
“A lot of words to pick from, darlin’, but okay isn’t one of them.” He forced himself up on his elbows and kissed her swollen lips. “Think I could settle on outstanding or fan-fucking-tastic, though.”
She grinned, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright and pretty as they’d been at the ranch. “Me too.”
Oh he was fucked. Well and truly screwed twenty different ways where this woman was concerned, because he’d been wrong. Natalie Jordan wasn’t born for sex. She was born for him.