Champagne Cravings (8 page)

That verdict was a no-brainer. I said, “I’m not inhibited
sexually. Chase and Brandon would have been bored with me after the first night
if that were the case. But emotionally and subconsciously, I’m my own worst
enemy. I care too much about what people think of me and I don’t really put
myself out there. I admire people who do. Like you.”

He lifted my hand to his lips and muttered, “Trust me, I
care about what
you
think of me. I’ve always thought in terms of doing
what’s right for me, and me alone. But these past few years, and really quite
recently, I’ve considered I have to expand that circle and do what’s right for
you too.”

I stared up at him, surprised. “That’s what this
take-our-time thing is about this weekend?”

“Yeah, well…” He seemed to search for the right words before
saying, “Think about how I’ve chased you and pulled back and then chased you
again over the past three years. I hit on you, you tell me ‘not a chance in
hell’, but I know the attraction is mutual, so I back off and then something
sparks between us and I go for it again.”

“You have made your intentions clear,” I assured him.

He shook his head. “Not really. I mean, yeah, I’ve been
straightforward about wanting to sleep with you. I’ve been hot for you since
the first time I met you.” He grinned at me, a wicked glint in his beautiful
blue eyes that was eclipsed by a more somber expression as he said, “But I know
your story, Lace. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you,
especially
because I know your story. And the fact we’re really great friends. That’s why
I’ve always pulled back instead of pushing harder.”

“What changed your mind last night? Because you definitely
pushed.” I was quick to add, “And good Lord, can you resuscitate a dormant
libido with just a kiss.”

He chuckled. “That’s good old-fashioned chemistry. We have
it in spades.”

“Yes, I guess we do.”

In a contemplative voice, he said, “The thing with last
night is, I was just going about my business, doing my thing, when I realized I
hadn’t had sex in like, two months or so. And I hadn’t missed it because I’d
never really been fulfilled by it. Hence the need for a different woman so
frequently. I was getting laid, not making love. And that’s when I thought of
you. My broken shower was the catalyst I needed in order to see things for what
they are—and try to get you to do the same.”

As I took all
that
in, he continued.

“I didn’t come here last night to be with you in the sexual
sense. I wasn’t expecting you to come home when I was naked—that wasn’t a
scheme, just bad timing. Or maybe good timing, considering the progress we’ve
made. Anyway, I had planned to hang out and wait for you—with my clothes on.
Quite frankly, Lace, I’d rather be sitting on the sofa, eating Chinese takeout
and watching a movie with you than having sex with another woman.”

“Wow,” I whispered as panic rocketed through me. I moved
away from him and stood. “That’s kinda heavy, don’t you think?”

He seemed to consider this, then nodded slowly. “Yeah. But
it’s also the truth.”

I didn’t doubt that. He wasn’t the type to lie to a woman to
get what he wanted from her. Particularly this one.

He sat forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, his
hands clasped together between his parted legs. With an earnest look, he said,
“I know my reputation. And I’m not going to sit here and try to convince you
I’m a reformed womanizer because you finally caved. I have to prove it. I know
you trust me, but it’s not explicit. You don’t yet believe I can be faithful.”

I had to give him some credit, especially since he was being
so open and forthright. “I know you can be faithful. That I know of, you’ve
always dated one woman at a time. The real question is, can you be faithful for
longer than four or six weeks?”

That wasn’t the only concern I had. I turned away and
started to pace as anxiety washed over me. I said, “Maybe that’s not the real
issue. Can I even hold your interest for longer than four or six weeks?”

“Well, it’s been three years so far, sweetheart.”

I whirled around, my finger pointing at him. “That’s because
we haven’t had sex yet.”

Despite the tension that filled the room, one corner of his
mouth lifted in a sexy grin. “
Yet?
”

I’d just made it a foregone conclusion, when I’d told him
emphatically in the hallway this morning I had no intention on acting upon the
admission I’d made about wanting him to fuck me.

Backpedaling would make me a hypocrite, so I said, “I wanted
you last night and I was willing to do exactly what I’ve been accusing you
of—having sex without any real commitment around it.” Of course this led to the
extremely disappointing revelation that I truly was a hypocrite. With a groan,
I added, “Christ, that makes
me
the bad guy. Geez, what is wrong with
me?”

He shot to his feet and grabbed my wrist before I could turn
away. I was suddenly too ashamed to look him in the eye, but he forced me to by
hooking his finger under my chin and lifting it.

“Hey, slow down a sec,” he said, his blue irises shimmering
under the soft glow of my chandelier. “First, you are definitely not the bad
guy in this scenario. Sometimes I’m too cocky for my own good. And you know I
wanted you too. The way you looked at me when I stepped out of the shower…
Hell, how could I not have capitalized on that when I’ve fantasized about you
for so damn long?”

“Don’t let me off the hook,” I told him as my stomach
twisted. “Here I’m always preaching about fidelity and whining about the fact
the men I choose—who have reputations for cheating and having one-night
stands—can’t be faithful and continually break my heart, and I’m no better.”

“We didn’t sleep together last night, Lace. You didn’t have
a one-night stand when you adamantly oppose it.”

“I would have,” I told him, “if you hadn’t been thinking
more clearly than me. If you didn’t respect me the way you do…” I shook my
head. “It all would’ve gotten out of hand, and the worst part is, if you’d have
taken advantage of the fact I wanted you, I would have loathed us both come
morning.”

He sighed. “I know you’re struggling here, Lace. And let’s
face it, I’ve never been in a real relationship, so I don’t have much reason to
expect you to trust me. Casual dating is the biggest commitment I’ve ever
made.”

Aha.
He’d just painted the big picture right in front
of my face and it made me sigh in sheer torment.

“I can’t just casually date you, Mike.” It wasn’t in my
nature. But was more than casual dating even in his DNA?

In a low tone, he said, “Yeah, I know.” The finger under my
chin skimmed over my jaw and then he tucked a loose curl behind my ear. “And I
don’t have longevity on my side. No positive track record to prove I can do
what I say I intend to do. I get that.”

“I’m not putting this all on you,” I insisted. “My fear of
taking a leap of faith is because I
do
have a track record. A dismal one
I don’t want to keep repeating.”

“So we both have some work to do. I can handle it, Lace.”

I stared at him, wanting to believe him because he was so
genuine. And trying so hard.

How could I shrug him off? The guy was pulling out all the
stops and he wasn’t attempting to disguise or minimize his flaws. He was
throwing them out there for me to scrutinize and even balk at, which I
couldn’t, given his direct approach. Nor could I deny accountability for my own
shortcomings. Still… I was at a loss for how to proceed from here.

“Where does that leave us?” I asked.

He reached for me and pulled me into his arms. I wasn’t
hesitant to go. My arms wrapped around his neck as he held me in a tight
embrace. The feel of his hard body against mine was heavenly. His cologne was
an earthy, woodsy scent that made me think of making love in a meadow on a warm
spring day, the sun caressing our naked bodies.

It did not escape my attention I couldn’t be this close to
him and not think of sex. He inspired erotic fantasies without even trying.

His thoughts were a bit cleaner than mine. He said, “We take
our time, but agree to exclusivity.”

The meadow melted into oblivion. Tension gripped me as a
warning sign flashed in my head.

This is how people get hurt!

“Come on, Lace,” he whispered in my ear. “Take a chance on
me.”

“It’s not just you,” I murmured back. I had to take a chance
on
me
too.

“We can do this.”

With his fingers gently stroking my spine and his muscles
surrounding me, his scent arousing me as much as his touch, it was impossible
to say no. So I didn’t.

My lips grazed his neck and he groaned. My fingers tangled
in his hair and I lifted my face as his head dipped and his mouth crashed down
on mine. He kissed me with the kind of red-hot passion that made my pulse race
and my head spin.

Eventually, I dragged my mouth from his. “I don’t know how
we’re going to take this slow.” I was breathless and my heart hammered in my
chest. “You kiss me and I want to rip your clothes off.”

He gave me the cocky grin that had ensnared me from the very
beginning, the one he’d flashed me after he’d punched Brandon in the nose for
humiliating me at Sharon’s wedding.

“I wasn’t ruling out all physical contact,” he said with a
wink. “I can restrain myself from jumping your bones, but that doesn’t mean I
don’t want to touch you.”

“How ironic that you’re more controlled than I am.”

“Well, you haven’t had sex in three years.”

“Sad to say.”

Suddenly, he scooped me up in his arms, startling me. “I
have an idea.” That wicked glint returned to his eyes and it turned me on as
much as his passionate kiss. So much so, I couldn’t argue with him as he
carried me into the bedroom.

May I Have Another, Please?

Mike set me in the middle of the bed and then toed off his
boots before joining me. He stretched alongside me and I admired his hunkiness
as the moonlight seeped in between the narrow gaps of my blinds.

“Whatever you’re thinking, I already like it,” I told him. I
grabbed fistfuls of his T-shirt and tugged the material from the waist of his
jeans. He reached behind him, at the nape of his neck, and hauled the shirt
over his head, tossing it aside.

A soft moan fell from my lips. He was positively
mouthwatering.

The image of him standing naked and wet in my bathroom
flashed in my mind, causing me to reach for his button fly. He stopped me,
though, his hands closing over mine.

“You’re the only one getting naked tonight, sweetheart.” His
tone was low and sensual, sending a ripple of excitement down my spine.

He slipped my tank top over my head, sending it the way of
his shirt. My bra followed and he let out a sharp grunt as he gazed at me. A
large hand palmed my breast and he massaged it with just the right amount of
pressure to set off fireworks inside me. His head bent to my chest and his
tongue flicked over my hard nipple before he sucked the taut bud into his
mouth.

“Mike.” I gasped as my insides lit up brighter than a Fourth
of July night sky.

His mouth moved to the other nipple while he still kneaded
my breast with his hand and swept the pad of his thumb over the tight center.
My fingers plowed through his hair and my back arched as I attempted to get
closer to him. His hand left my breast and skimmed down my quivering stomach to
the drawstring at my waist. He pulled the bow apart and slid a hand past the
band. His fingers grazed my pussy lips through the satin material of my thong
panties and my body jolted from the intimate touch.

His head lifted and he kissed me with a raw intensity that
told me how much he wanted me. Passion arced between us like an electrical
current. His fingers at the apex of my legs brushed aside the material covering
my crotch and the pads swept over my sensitive skin. He stroked my labia, then
two fingers worked their magic on my clit. His touch was aggressive and
skilled.

I ripped my mouth from his. “Oh God, Mike.” One of my hands
shifted to his broad shoulder and I gripped it tightly as my body started to
tremble.

A fiery sensation raced through my veins and an insistent
throbbing built in my pussy, making me restless and in desperate need of him.

I knew he wouldn’t fuck me tonight. He’d said as much and he
was the type to stick to his guns. But he was certainly determined to get me
off.

His lips and tongue teased the skin on my neck, nipping and
sucking softly, driving me wild. He kissed me just below the ear and whispered,
“I want to make you come, Lace.”

“Yes,” I said in a strained, breathless voice. My short
pants echoed in the quiet room, then turned into throaty moans when he eased a
long finger into my pussy.

Mike groaned. “Jesus, you’re tight. And so wet.”

The erotic invasion was welcomed and oh so needed. He pushed
deep and I writhed beneath him. He worked a second finger into my slick cunt
and pumped them in and out of me as the heel of his hand rubbed my clit. His
lips closed around a puckered nipple once more and I seriously wanted to scream
in sheer ecstasy.

My hips gyrated and jerked and my fingertips pressed into
his shoulder. Flames seemed to dance along my skin and tremendous sensations
swelled within me, a blazing mix of passion, desire, lust and carnal cravings.
I couldn’t hold on to them. Mike’s tongue whisked over my tingling nipple and I
was a goner.

“Come for me,” he whispered, his warm breath teasing the
beaded center of my breast.

“Yes,” I said again, at a loss for substantial words.

“Now,” he demanded in a low voice as his fingers fucked me a
little faster, a little harder. Giving me everything I needed.

The balloon of sensations burst wide open and I cried out
his name as a powerful climax exploded within me, sending vibrant sparks
shooting in every direction.

“Oh holy cow,” I said on a sharp breath. “Oh God.” My arms
encircled his neck and I clung to him as the strong waves of pleasure washed
over me and my trembling body turned into a quaking one.

He withdrew his fingers from my pussy and wrapped his arms
around me, gathering me close to him. My breasts pressed to the spot just below
the hard ledge of his pectoral muscles and our legs tangled. We were a perfect
fit.

I felt his erection against my belly and wanted to slide a
hand between us and go for his fly again, despite the fact he’d stopped me last
time.

But he had something else in mind as he mumbled in my ear,
“Which drawer, Lace?”

A wicked thrill shot through me. Though I cautiously asked,
“You’re not serious?”

“Oh hell, yes.”

Maybe it was my naughty side that attracted bad boys. I
looked sweet and innocent enough. Was a classic good girl. Until I was in the
bedroom. Maybe that was why I’d been incapable of walking away from the studio
when Biel and Piper had been going at it.

Thinking of them caused my pussy to throb again, because it
made me deliciously aware of what Mike had in mind.

“Nightstand on your side. Top drawer,” I said.

He released me and shifted on the bed. Yanking open the
drawer, he didn’t have to rummage through any goodies. I only had the one.

Holding it up, he said, “Not much for bells and whistles?”

It was a very simple and even somewhat boring vibrator. So
underwhelming, I think it only took one battery. My usage was so low, I hadn’t
swapped the double-A out in years.

“What’s the point of bells and whistles, really?” I asked.
“Still just a substitute for the real thing.”

“We’ll get to the real thing,” he assured me. “In the
meantime…” He surveyed the sparsely filled drawer and said, “Won’t be needing
the lubricant. I’ll take care of that.”

He rolled toward me and set the sex toy on the bed, then
reached for the waist of my pants and dragged the material down my legs. My
panties followed. I wore no socks, generally skipping them during the spring
and summer months. While I lay naked on the plush, chocolate-colored duvet, he
took me in from head to toe, his jaw tightening briefly as fire lit his eyes.

“Jesus, Lacey.” He only ever used my full name when he had a
point to make. “You are insanely beautiful, sweetheart.”

That lump of emotion swelled in my throat again. I managed
to say, “I’m no supermodel.”

“You could be.”

I appreciated his vote of confidence, delusional though it
was.

“What are you planning on doing with the vibrator?” I asked
to get him back on track. My body hummed with high voltage and I was suddenly
in need of more of what he had to offer. Floodgates opened and all of that…

He grinned at me, a bad boy smirk with a lifting of one
brow. Devilish and so very sexy.

“We’ll get to that.”

I wondered what ideas had popped into his head when I’d said
earlier that I wasn’t inhibited sexually. And instantly hoped a whole slew of
possibilities appealed to him.

His hands roamed my body, cupping and squeezing my breasts,
rolling and pinching my nipples. Then sliding lower as he moved between my
parted thighs and settled into the vee they created. His thumbs slid along my
pussy lips, stroking them with an assertive, tantalizing touch. I had a feeling
he could make me come just from touching me this way and gazing at me with such
heat and desire in his eyes.

He spread my lips and bent his head, his tongue taking a
long, languid swipe over my swollen flesh.

I practically melted into the mattress. I caressed my
breasts and toyed with the hard nipples, picking up where he’d left off.

The tip of Mike’s tongue flicked over my clit with a slow
pace at first. As I squirmed on the bed, he increased the pressure and
quickened the tempo.

I moaned softly as my back bowed and my eyelids fluttered
closed. “That’s so good,” I told him. One hand left my breasts and tangled in
his thick, silky strands of hair. “Lick my pussy. Make me come again.
Please.
”

He masterfully alternated between flicking and suckling the
knot of nerves, sending my entire body into a sexual frenzy. It’d been so long
since I’d experienced this sort of bliss, but I could easily say I’d never felt
such intense sensations and such a soul-deep arousal. Mike knew exactly how to
touch me, exactly how much pressure to apply, what rhythm to set, how assertive
to be. Like he had a blueprint to providing me pleasure. I responded instantly
and vehemently, my pulse soaring, my heart thundering, my insides snapping and
sizzling.

“Fuck me, Mike,” I whispered on a harsh breath. “I want to
feel you inside me.”

It was more than a dark desire. It was an unrelenting need.

He pushed two fingers into my pussy and stroked my inner
walls as he continued to lap and suck. He hadn’t given me what I’d asked for,
but he sent me barreling right to the edge, nonetheless.

His fingers twisted inside me and I let out a strangled cry
as I came. I was trapped in a gloriously wicked undertow, but Mike didn’t let
up. He withdrew his fingers and used the vibrator instead. The head of the toy
pressed to my opening for all of two seconds before he thrust it into me,
pushing out a hard breath of air from my lungs. The shaft was thick enough to
fill me, but not the way I knew Mike would.

He flipped the switch and the vibrating feature sprang to
life. With one hand on the toy, he used the other to lift my leg and place the
back of my thigh against his hard, bare chest. As he leaned into me, the
vibrator sank deep into my pussy and my knee bent, the back of it hooking over
his shoulder. His palm flattened alongside my head as his other hand fucked me
with the toy.

The vibrations and the deep thrusts had me moaning and
writhing on the bed. I cupped my breasts again, squeezing them roughly.

In a tight voice, Mike said, “Watching you makes me hot.”

“You could be fucking me.”

“I am fucking you.”

His strength allowed him to do it forcefully, which
satisfied the erratic pulsing inside me. I needed the intensity he provided
because I was so sexually deprived—and so turned-on by him, especially as he
stared down at me, his own need and desire stamped across his chiseled
features. He was forsaking his release for mine and I could see that both
excited and taxed him. My hand instinctively moved to his crotch and I palmed
his balls through the denim covering them.

“No, don’t,” he ground out.

“I won’t unbutton your jeans.”

He gave a sharp shake of his head. “This isn’t about me.
It’s about you. And…I don’t want to come when I’m not inside you.”

It was as though he was torturing himself for being with
other women. I said, “We weren’t together before tonight.”

He swallowed hard. “Too soon.”

I got it…but then again…I didn’t. Likely because my
lust-induced haze skewed all rationale. I dragged my hand away. He released my
leg and lowered himself down to me, his chest pressing to mine as he kissed me
and fucked me harder.

The scorching sensations within me multiplied and expanded,
once again bursting wide open and making me cry out as another beautiful orgasm
rocked my body.

“Oh Christ, Mike,” I said on a harsh breath as the heated
euphoria rushed over me, making my skin tingle.

He kissed my throat as my insides hummed and I trembled from
head to toe.

Finally, he whispered against my sensitive flesh, “That was
as satisfying for me as it was for you. God, you get me going, Lace. Like
nothing I’ve ever known.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine.

When my climax ebbed and I could breathe easier, Mike
slipped from the bed. I felt wonderfully relaxed, despite the fact I still
wanted him inside me.

He ducked into my bathroom for a few minutes, then returned
my vibrator to the drawer. As I slid under the covers, he scooped up his shirt
and pulled it on. After slipping into his tan suede boots, he leaned down and
kissed me on the forehead.

“Good thing my plumbing got fixed today,” he told me. “I’m
in need of one hellaciously long, cold shower.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I had a
very
good time.” His lips brushed
mine, then he murmured, “Sweet dreams, babe.”

He straightened and headed toward the door. He knew my
boundaries. Respected them at the highest levels. I adored him for that.

“Wait,” I called out, surprising myself. And him too, by the
look on his face as he glanced at me over his shoulder.

My fingers clenched the sheet at my chest as nervous anxiety
skipped through me. But there was something to be said for true friendship that
existed regardless of any other emotion or transcendence of mutual
appreciation—at the heart of the matter, there had to be absolute truth between
two people when they were this dedicated to their friendship. And whatever else
they might be headed for.

So I simply said, “Stay.” It was what I wanted, in
absolute
truth
, even if did scare the crap out of me.

Mike turned back to me and asked, “Are you sure?”

It crossed all kinds of lines, yes. Lines
I’d
drawn.
But the vast amount of feelings he’d shared with me—and the fact this man could
make me come repeatedly without asking anything of me, though I was more than
willing to return the favor—sparked something inside me. I’d agreed to give us
a chance. That meant I had to give something of myself. Sharing my personal
space seemed to be an appropriate way to pay it forward, so to speak.

And, with all honesty, I really didn’t want him to go.

“I can handle it,” I told him, trying to reassure him as
he’d done for me earlier in the evening.