Page 26 of Misadventures in Blue
The elegant and refined Catherine Day gives me an eye roll worthy of any teenager. “Do I seem like the kind of woman who would give out pity sex just because a man had a sad, lonely boner?”
Hearing the word boner from her pretty lips is enough to make me laugh. “Okay, maybe not.”
“I want to because I want to, Jace. Because I want you.” Her eyebrows pull together a little, as if she’s trying to puzzle something out. “I need you.”
“Then you can have me,” I rumble, sliding my palms down to the delicate bevel of her collarbone. And then down farther so I can feel her heartbeat under my fingertips and her nipples harden against my palms.
“Bare again,” she begs as I start toying with them.
“Yes, ma’am,” I murmur, and then I duck down and take her nipple into my mouth.
She gasps and arches, her hand coming to the back of my head to encourage me. I groan at the feeling of her fingers in my hair, tugging at the short locks, and I nearly growl at the sensation of her nipple stiffening even more between my lips.
I suck and suck with hot pulls, and then I catch it gently with my teeth until she gasps again. I move to the other side to torment her other one until they’re both dark pink and jutting out from her breasts in inflamed need.
Then I drop to my knees.
Cat moans in anticipation as I brush my lips over her mound, and then she breathes out a long ohhhhh when my flickering tongue finds her clit. The shower has washed away most of her flavor, so I sling her leg over my shoulder and spread her open with my thumbs so I can taste the very heart of her.
I taste it, finally, with her pushed open and my face practically buried between her legs. I grunt as the sweet and salt of her blooms on my tongue, and my cock jolts with so much need that I have to jack it even as I service her just to keep my limbs from s
haking.
“Oh God,” she says once she catches sight of me handling my dick. “Oh God, get up here, get up here—”
I stand, careful to make sure she has her balance as I do, and then I press her against the shower wall and kiss the hell out of her. I kiss her until she can taste herself on my tongue, and I kiss her until she’s trying to grind her pussy against the thigh I put between her legs.
I break the kiss and look down, thinking I could watch her needy pussy rocking against my bare thigh all day long, but of course my dick doesn’t think that.
“Ready?” I ask.
She whimpers out a yes, and then I lift her into my arms so that her legs go around my waist, notch the head of my cock at her opening, and impale her in one smooth and delicious glide.
She wraps her arms around my neck for more leverage, and I brace her against the shower wall again. It’s so much like the time we fucked in the station, except it’s completely different. For one thing, it’s slippery and wet, so we have to be more creative, fucking more with arms and twists of hips rather than with the grunting, battering force I used in the meeting room.
And instead of wearing the uniforms and badges that define our lives, we’re stripped bare, right down to the skin. Even our expressions are naked, and Cat’s is showing me all the fear and hurt and longing she carries around inside her every day, and her eyes are shining down at me like I single-handedly saved Christmas. There’s a new kind of intimacy between us. Something more than sex—more than friendship or respect, even—and it feels fragile and breakable and beautiful beyond all reason.
Oh God. She’s twisting me up so badly, twisting my heart right up.
I catch her lips with mine. “Do you…” I start to ask and then stop because what I was about to say was Do you feel what you’re doing to me? And then maybe I would have also said, Do you know I’m falling in love with you?
I’m terrified of scaring her off, so I don’t finish what I started.
And maybe I don’t need to. Maybe Cat can see it in my face anyway, because she presses her forehead to mine and murmurs, “Yes.”
Just that one word to my half question.
Do you…?
Yes.
I’m not going to survive her, I think.
She comes apart into a slippery, shivering mess, her cunt pulsating all around my shaft and squeezing me on to my own orgasm—as fierce as it is tender, surging into her warmth with her blue eyes on mine and her hand in my hair.
For a minute, we simply pant together like that, the water still spattering our shoulders and feet and our shared essences beginning to seep out from where we’re joined. It’s a surprisingly cozy feeling—or maybe cozy isn’t the right word.
Restful, maybe. Familiar in the sense that it feels right.
