Coming ine box set, p.140
Coming in Hot: Rescue Me Box Set, page 140
I almost protested. I mean, seriously? What was he trying to prove? I was already ready to jump him, rip his clothes off, have my way in a way that would revive his sex memory and how. He didn’t have anything more to prove to me in the “I want him” department. But it was as if I’d been drugged.
My eyes closed. My body slumped against the truck door. I slept. And the thirty-five minutes or so between downtown Ann Arbor and his condo in Greektown were among the most pleasant I’d spent in the company of another person in a damned long time.
Chapter Four
“We’re here.” Ian’s soft Scottish accent broke into my napping psyche like a drop of warm honey. I opened my eyes to find him standing at the open truck door, fingers tucked into his jeans pockets, waiting for me to rejoin the world. I stretched, reveling in the moment, even as I realized something about myself. Before he could lean into me and do anything lovely, I held out one hand and put the other over my lips.
“Tell me you have a spare toothbrush.”
“I have a spare toothbrush.”
I frowned at him and climbed down onto the pavement. “Do you? Or did you just say what I told you to say?”
“I keep them around, just in case my mojo comes back, and women start showing up at my door for sleepovers.”
I smacked his oh-so-muscley arm. “Don’t be a smart ass.”
“I’m not being a smart ass. Now, are we doing this thing, or what?”
“Race you to the elevator,” I said, taking off for what I hoped was an elevator.
We rode up in silence, me keeping him at arm’s length from my dragon breath. The hall only had two doors. He opened one and held out a hand. I walked in, impressed by the well-appointed if a bit sterile, accommodations. “Bathroom? Toothbrush?”
He pointed toward a back hall. “Help yourself. I’m having another beer. Nerves, you know.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.
I ducked into the one bedroom, found the bathroom, opened a few drawers and spotted a package of unused toothbrushes, floss, and a box of condoms. I stared at the drawer’s contents as that sunk in a little deeper. This was actually happening. I was going to have sex with this hot hunk of an older guy, tonight, now—any minute, as a matter of fact. I took a quick sniff of my armpits, tried to recall if the underwear I’d put on after my work shower were halfway decent, then made an executive decision.
I shut the bathroom door, turned on the shower, removed my clothes, and stood under the wide, hot stream for a few minutes before getting to work cleaning myself up. I still somehow sensed the food-poison sick on me so I scrubbed it away, got out, wrapped myself in a towel, and did what I’d come in here to do—brushed my teeth.
“Hey, you alive in there?” Ian said through the door.
“Yeah. And a helluva lot cleaner too. You’ll thank me later.”
“I’d prefer to thank you now.”
I grinned through the toothpaste foam at myself, slapped a mental high-five for scoring this guy, rinsed my mouth and eased the door open, towel sliding to the floor, more than ready for the full-on seduction. When Ian saw me, my hair damp, my skin glowing from the bottle of hotel-sized lotion I’d located in another of his bathroom drawers, he blinked and took a few steps backward. Confused, I put a hand on my neck, worried I might have broken out in hives or something equally distressing.
“Uh, okay, so…let’s have a beer.” He turned away and marched back through the convenient awaiting bedroom and into the main part of the condo.
Irritated, I followed him, tugging the towel back together so it covered the body that had alarmed him so much. “I don’t want a beer, Ian,” I reminded him, a discernable whine in my voice. When I found him, he was sitting at the raised, granite eating bar that separated his fancy, stainless steel clad kitchen from the living area. He had two beers open and poured into glasses. He was staring down into his portion as if it might reveal the universe’s secrets.
Swallowing my knee-jerk inclination towards smartassery, I slid into the seat next to him, picked up the beer and sipped. It was good—nice and bitter, not too sweet, with a back flavor of coriander or maybe orange. I drank a bit more, then picked up the bottle next his glass. “These are yours?” I admired the label, noting the brewery name as the one that matched the one on his T-shirt. “Sorry. I’m kind of out it when it comes to stuff like this. But it’s really good.”
I held up my half-empty glass to him, then put it down on the counter between us. He hadn’t moved, best I could tell.
“Hey, earth to hot stuff. What’s wrong?” I put my finger under his bearded chin and lifted it so he had to meet my gaze. He shook his head and pulled away, looking a tad sulkier than a guy about to get laid really should. I leaned back, crossed my arms and let him have his moment.
Finally, I rose slowly, allowing the towel hit the floor again. He blinked fast, like a teenager getting his first full glimpse of tits and bush. Annoyed, but recalling the sheer perfection of his kiss earlier, I took his beer, set it on the counter, pulled him to his feet and led him to the large, brown leather couch.
Without a word, I shoved him down, straddled his hips and kissed him, picking up where we’d left off, dispensing with the teasing and going right for tongues. We groaned in unison when he cupped my bare breasts and dragged the pads of his thumbs over my nipples. He broke away and leaned his head back.
“We really are doing this, huh?”
I grinned instead of answering, stood up and got him as naked as I was, savoring the unwrapping of his body like the world’s sexiest birthday present for myself. He sat, his arms spread across the back of the couch, his erect cock even more impressive now that I could really see it and feel it in my hand. I was twanging with lust by the time I’d run back to the bathroom and grabbed a condom and rolled the thing down over it. He exhaled and yanked me forward. “I’m not gonna last long…not the first time,” he whispered as I rose up on my knees and lowered down onto him, one exquisite centimeter at a time.
“Uh-huh,” I gasped as he sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, keeping his fingertips dug into my ass as I moved up and down, slow at first, willing to admit that his girth was something a gal might take a few minutes to adjust to. “No problem,” I said as I moved faster, finding my rhythm as he sucked and teased my flesh, thrusting upward to match my downward strokes.
“Stop,” he said at one point, lifting his face from my breasts. I was settled down over him then, his cock buried deep in me. “Now, try this,” he said, shifting forward so his butt was a little closer to the edge of the couch. This angle gave my clit direct contact with his pubic bone. “Just…this…” he whispered as he tugged my nipples to hard peaks and watched as I got the sense of what he was going for. The friction against my outer g-spot plus direct stimulation inside, thanks to how deep he was inside me, made me groan, made me gasp, then cry out as the shock of the orgasm hit my brain like a bright flash of summer lightning.
I gripped the back of the couch and kept grinding down, as the climax rolled me over and tumbled me under. Ian had let go of my nipples, sensing I no longer wanted that contact. He waited. I opened my eyes to see him smiling up at me. “Wow. Cool,” I said, still breathless from the climax. “Not bad for an oldster.” He grinned before covering my lips with his. Keeping our lip lock, he moved forward and picked me up, then reversed us so I was pinned beneath him on the soft leather.
He stared down into my eyes, his breathing heavy, his hips already moving, thrusting hard into me. “Lil, Lillian, Dr.…Zane…Christ!” His thrust took on a serious edge as I wrapped my legs around his waist and relished the almost-forgotten sensation of a man’s body, his firm chest above me, strong arms alongside my head, his hips moving, his cock filling me so completely I thought I might never let him go. “Gonna…gotta…come…oh God.” He groaned low and buried his face in my neck, his hips and ass bucking against me as the orgasm took hold of him.
I sighed with pleasure and stretched my arms up over my head, keeping my ankles locked around his ass for a few more seconds. He rose from my sweaty skin and smiled at me, kissed me with a scary sort of intensity, sending my mental red flags flapping—early, I noted, but then I ignored them. Because, God help me, I was not about to stop kissing the man. His full, firm lips held me hostage, and by the time he ended it, I was putty all over again. I put my hand alongside his bearded jaw. “That was lovely,” I said. “Thank you.”
“Yeah,” he said, boosting himself up and off me. “Guess I haven’t lost my touch altogether. That’s a relief.” I dropped my legs over his, staying on my back, relishing the various stinging pains and sweet pleasures zinging all through and across me.
He stroked my leg as we caught our breath. For the first time in a while I decided that if he asked me to stay the night, I would. For the first time in my entire adult life, I wanted nothing more than to curl up against his side, purring like a kitten, and have him hold me close while I slept.
Oh boy. That was no good. No good at all.
I rolled over and landed on all fours on the expensive looking Turkish rug.
“Nice view,” Ian quipped as he leaned forward and smacked my bare ass, which caused a sort of perverse reaction in me, making me want to start again, to get his dick hard and take it inside me until we were both spent. He rose and headed for the bathroom, presumably to dispose of the condom. I took a few calming breaths, then got up and grabbed his gray T-shirt. Pulling it over my head, I wandered into the kitchen, hungry for real this time, now that my other need had been sated for the time being.
I pulled out a few leftover Chinese takeaway cartons, sniffed them, then stuck a couple into the microwave. By the time Ian joined me, I had a decent feast of tofu lo mein and veggie fried rice spread out on the eating counter. He opened a couple more beers and joined me, watching me eat and waving away my offer to have a few bites.
“So,” I said, sitting back and covering my mouth so I could burp somewhat politely in front of him. “You’re now a brewery owner and you volunteer at some drug-treatment center.”
“Yep.” He sipped, never taking his shocking blue gaze from me.
“Then how do you afford all this?” I waved the chopsticks around, indicating our Spartan but spacious surroundings.
“As you like to remind me, I am an old fart, plus, I was head of OB/GYN at a major hospital for almost a decade. I did all right.”
“Ah, you’re not that old. At least in some ways. I assume you used a bunch of your dough to start the beer thing, right?” He grabbed my legs and pulled them onto his lap, then dug his knuckles into the arch of my foot, making me groan almost as loud as I had earlier. “God, that feels great.”
“Your feet take a beating in the pit.” He kept at it. I slid back in the chair. His eyes went straight to my bare pussy, now in full view under my bogarted T-shirt. I grinned at his intense expression and parted my legs more, wanting him to touch me there. He continued his foot massage instead, which loosened me up in other ways. “I did use a lot of my money for the beer thing,” he said after a few pleasant, silent minutes spent on my feet and toes. “Luckily, I’m Scottish. We are thrifty, dare I say stingy. It’s encoded in my DNA.” He rested his hands on my calves. I shifted forward and let my thighs fall open again. He grinned and slid one hand up until his fingertips grazed my eager sex.
“Nice,” he muttered.
“I have to ask you something,” I said, sighing as he traced the edges of my labia with his fingers, his touch feather light.
“Sure, anything,” he said, his voice taking on a rough, lusty timbre as his thumb pressed against my clit. I moved my hips forward in encouragement. He began to stroke me there, his touch firm now, in control, doing exactly what I wanted in exactly the place I needed it.
“You ever get tired of it…you know, looking at pussy all day?”
He chuckled. But to my dismay, he took his hands off me and stood up. “Honestly, no.”
“Well, I do demand honesty,” I said. He pulled me up, then all the way up, until I was over his shoulder. “Hey, I don’t know if I like this.”
But I did. I mean, oh boy did I.
He smacked my bare ass again as he made his way toward the bedroom then dumped me down onto the soft nest of comforter and sheets. “I learned a lot,” he said, as he propped my knees up. “Grab some pillows. Watch me work,” he demanded, his gaze never far from that part of me that was, to be sure, his actual area of expertise. “You see, a woman’s anatomy is like a snowflake. There aren’t any that are exactly the same.” He settled himself between my legs, his face close, so close I could feel the heat of his breath on my exposed, tender flesh.
“Tell me more, Doctor,” I said, lifting my hips so he could slide his hands under my ass. “I want to know all about it.”
“Take this, for instance.” He lowered his lips. Shivering all over, I sensed his tongue probing until he found my most tender, sensitive nub of flesh.
“Yes, please do take it.” I sighed as he sucked it into his mouth, gentle, but with a command of things that no man who’d ever gone down on me had before. “Oh, take that too…” I sighed as he slipped fingers into me.
He released his suction, using his tongue to tease my clit as he angled his fingers some magical way. I’d been propped up on my elbows, honestly curious about his former life as a lady-parts doc relative to his skill set down there. But when he stroked something inside me, a bundle of nerves I guess, but one I certainly had never discovered before, my vision blurred, and I flopped onto my back with a loud cry of satisfaction. I buried my fingers in his hair and shoved my hips up, wanting more, wanting him never to stop.
“God…yes…yes…yes!” I probably shrieked that last bit, but I didn’t care. The things he was doing to me, the sensations he was dragging out of me, deserved all of that and more. My heels dug into his back as he tugged me right to the edge and then shoved me over. I’d let go of his hair and held his sheets in a death grip, my back arched from the power of the orgasm. I panted, blinking up at the ceiling, as the feeling returned to my extremities.
He released my clit and cupped his warm hand over my entire, oh-so-happy pussy as he slid up beside me, leaned over me, and kissed me, giving me a taste of myself. I whimpered into his mouth but wrapped my arms around his neck and rolled him so he was on his back. I loomed over him, my still pulsing sex pressed against his revived erection.
I angled my hips, seeking the deep penetration I’d enjoyed on the couch but he stopped me. “Condom,” he gasped, pointing to the bathroom. “I…want to but we really shouldn’t.”
“I take the shot,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his nose, cheeks, neck, relishing the sweaty, manliness of his skin. “I’m clean.” I knew this for a fact. Given my history, I made a point to get checked for all the nasties with regularity.
“I am too,” he said, his hands still on my hips, holding me up and off him. “But get the damn thing anyway, all right? We’re doctors. We know better.”
Grinning, I moved down his body, dragging my tongue from each of the dark disks of his nipples, down his well-toned abs and lower. “I have a better idea, Doc,” I said, taking his long, thick cock in one hand and cupping his balls with the other. “I mean, one good turn deserves another, right?” I lapped at his slit, drinking down the beads of pre-cum with a shiver of pleasure.
“Yeah, I think that could be argued.” He sighed when I slipped my lips over his dick and took him deep, opening my throat as best I could. I was pretty damned good at the deep-throat thing, but Dr. Feelgood’s dick was easily the biggest one I’d ever had in my mouth.
“Holy … shit.” It was his turn to twine his fingers in my hair as I moved up and down, slow at first, looking up at him as I worked, knowing guys loved it when they could see you looking at them while you sucked them off. But his eyes were closed, so I focused on the task at hand, instead.
I shifted so I was positioned between his legs and shoved them apart with my thighs. I lubed my middle finger with spit and some of his fluid and teased my way down under his balls to the soft expanse of flesh between them and his asshole. His hips moved up, forcing himself deeper into my mouth. At that moment, with my eyes watering from the effort, I took him into my throat, then slid my finger into his ass, angling precisely and giving his prostate a stroke.
“Fuck!” He grunted, and shot cum down my throat hard and fast, almost choking me until I reminded myself to swallow it. He came a lot, as guys usually do when you milk their gland. A bit of a cheat, but fun for everyone, really.
I pulled my finger out and released his cock, sat back on my heels and admired the way he seemed to still be coming a little, his jaw clenched, his hands doing the sheet-grabbing thing I’d done a few minutes earlier. Finally, he relaxed with a loud exhale as he draped his arm over his eyes.
I leaned forward and licked what he’d shot onto his belly, unwilling to waste any. I was one of those girls. I loved to swallow. I headed to the bathroom to wash my hands, then wandered back over, admiring him from afar.
“Come up here,” he rasped, pulling me down so he could kiss me, long and deep as if enjoying the taste of his own cum as much as I did mine. When he broke the kiss, he was grinning like a cat who’d hit the canary jackpot. He brushed a lock of hair out of my eyes, tucked it behind my ear, another move that sent my inner red flags a-waving again. But I was so utterly content, right here, laying on top of this man, kissing him. I ignored them all. “That was totally cheating,” he said, his voice soft, his eyes sleepy.
“Like you didn’t cheat with me?”
“Well, okay, I did.”
“What was that anyway?” I rolled off him, propped up on my elbow but kept one of my legs hooked over his, loving the warm press of his flesh against mine.
“That, Doctor, was your g-spot.”
“The female g-spot is a total myth,” I said, tracing the light covering of hair on his chest with my fingertip.
