Love Tumble: Love at First Sight: Book Two Page 3

  “It feels right to me too.” She pauses, and when she speaks, humor with an edge of worry has again entered her tone. “You sure you’re not taking me to a bachelor pad littered with dirty laundry and empty chip bags that you share with six other guys?”

  I snort. “If I lived in a place like that, I’d be reserving a hotel room right about now.”

  She doesn’t respond, but now anticipation is dousing my nerves, calming me. Because I’m about to surprise the shit out of Kate, and not just because I intend to make love to every inch of her body like the goddess she is.

  What she doesn’t know is that no only do I not live in stereotypical undergrad style, but that my place is pretty damn upscale. I force myself to not step on the accelerator and to drive the speed limit for the last few blocks to my home.

  I turn onto a quiet street lined with magnificent oak trees and impeccably kept historical homes. This district of Shotgun was part of the original settlement when westward expansion was happening in the eighteen hundreds, and its been lovingly preserved like the artifact that it is.

  It’s also where all the rich people live. These homes are all worth at least a half a million dollars, and many of them are valued much higher. Like, much higher.

  I watch Kate’s face out of the corner of my eye as I pull into a long driveway that curves along a lush lawn past a slate-colored Victorian home sporting white trim and latticework circling the front porch. It’s modest, as Victorian houses go, with a small footprint and two understated stories.

  Her mouth slowly drops wide, jaw dangling, eyes taking in every detail of the property.

  “This . . . this is yours?” she breathes.

  I chuckle, enjoying myself. “No. But that is.” I point through the front windshield at the garage I’m pulling next to. I put my car into park and kill the engine. “I live in the loft above the garage.”

  “This is a garage?” Kate’s skepticism isn’t unfounded. The garage is really a renovated carriage house that’s just as beautiful as the main house, white-painted carved flourishes curving at the eaves, a stained glass accent window above the two vehicle entries.

  “That’s what I’m told.” I turn to her, grinning. “Want to come inside?”

  “Hell yeah I do, and not just because you’re going to fuck me good.” Her eyes dance with mischief, and her words make the erection I’m struggling to control throb. But she hesitates a beat, head cocked as if she’s taking in the words that just emerged from her mouth, and her cheeks redden. “I mean, like, if you want to do that.”

  “Fuck you good?”

  She buries her face in her hands with a groan. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

  “Hey.” Gently, I cover her hands in mine and peel them from her face. “I liked it. I like you. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

  “I’ve never said anything like that.”

  “Maybe,” I say with a shrug, “it’s because you’ve never met the right person to say something like that to.”

  The crease of concern between her eyebrows smooths. “Until now.” She leans forward and kisses me. Her lips are feather-light against mine, and I shiver.

  “Damn straight,” I growl. “And I do intend to fuck you good.”

  She grins and kisses me again, harder this time. “Excellent.”

  Her tongue snakes along my bottom lip, and I open my mouth for her. She tastes me, flicking her tongue over mine. I tease her with my tongue, trying to draw her into my mouth. She retreats and advances until I can’t stand it anymore. I wrap my arms around her and crush her to me, invading her mouth, devouring her moans.

  “God, you’re perfect,” I rasp. “No one’s ever turned me on like this. I could take you right here.”

  Her heavy-lidded eyes roam my face, lips parted, chest quick in its rise and fall. “But then I wouldn’t see the inside of your apartment. And I need to.”

  “I need to be inside you,” I say, but I’m already out of the car and loping around to the other side to help her out. I glance around to see if my landlord, Gary, is around to see how tented my jeans are. Thankfully, he’s nowhere to be seen.

  “Come on,” I say, clasping one of Kate’s hands and pulling her up the exterior stairs on the south side of the building that lead up to my loft. I make quick work of the lock and tug her inside after me.

  I close the door and push her against it, raking my fingers up Kate’s neck and into her hair. Her eyes are a challenge, legs spreading to admit my thigh. I grind into her pelvis, and she arches against my leg, eyes closing as she grabs fistfuls of my shirt.

  “Welcome to my home.” My voice is as thick as my cock, and just as needy. I’m so fucking ready. Judging by the way she’s rubbing her clothed slit over my leg, I’m not the only one.

  But I intend to make this last. So I adjust my stance so the stimulation on my dick eases but my thigh is still wedged against her most intimate place. I lavish kisses over her neck, and she throws her head back with a shuddering sigh to give me more access.

  I interpret this as an invitation and nip and suck the vulnerable flesh with increasing intensity. With one hand I open Kate’s suit jacket and massage a tender breast through her buttoned shirt before venturing further south. I make quick work of the button of her pants and dive into her panties.

  I feel lace against my knuckles and the soft, damp curls of her down with my fingertips. I nestle a finger into her vulva, searching for her opening, and am rewarded with the discovery of slick juices.

  She gasps at how quickly I’ve reached her lips, making me grin. “Do you like that?” I whisper.

  Kate nods, eyes opening to slits, pupils dilated with pleasure.

  “I’m going to get you off now.” I nip her earlobe. “And then I’ll give you a tour of my place. Is that okay?”

  Her brow wrinkles and her fingers find my belt buckle. “I want you,” she says, words gravelly. She fumbles with the buckle, and I suck in a quick intake of air at her touch.

  I grab her hands. “Not yet.”

  She looks like she’s considering protesting. But then I find her clit and spiral my finger over it and all argument dies on her lips. She sags against the door, arms looped around my neck for support, giving herself over to my ministrations.

  I take her silent acquiescence and run with it. I swirl her clit fast and then slow, her hips already bucking. I relish how when I drag my fingers north and south over her sensitive nub, her core contracts and she presses her face into my shoulder. “That feels so good,” she breathes.

  In answer, I adjust my hand and thrust into her with two fingers, my thumb still working her clit. Her insides clench around me, dragging a moan from my mouth. I swirl her button faster, feeling her first orgasm building deep within.

  Her breath comes in quick gasps, and she meets every thrust of my hand with one of her own. Her channel tightens, her head pressing against the door, bracing herself to keep my pressure on her clit steady. I lick her throat from collarbone to chin.

  Kate shudders at the unexpected touch on her exposed jugular and shatters over the edge. Her velvet walls clamp so tight around my fingers that I can’t move them. But I don’t abandon her clitoris, urging her climax higher, her cries filling my apartment.

  “Yes,” I rumble into her ear, “come for me, love.”

  My words take her higher still. Her legs wrap around my waist of their own accord, pelvis rolling like the ocean against my hand. Her mouth is wide with ecstasy. I cover it with mine, gently caressing her tongue with my own, savoring the privilege of being the source of this delectable woman’s pleasure.

  Kate

  When I descend from the summit of my orgasm, it feels as if I’ve both come from and arrived in another world. Harry finger-banging me against his front door brought me to a liminal space, an in-between time that, were it not for my wet and throbbing nether regions begging for more attention, I’d wonder ever really existed.

  But Harry is flesh and blood and wholly real. He suppo
rts me as I find my feet. His lips curve into a smug smile at his accomplishment while his eyes remain steely with arousal.

  I’d let him claim me, throwing myself into the experience with wild abandon. But now that we’re no longer touching and I’m almost breathing normally — almost — I feel awkward and unsure of what to do. I smooth my shirt. When my fingers brush over my open pants, my heart lurches in embarrassment even as my vulva begs for more.

  I’m not about to walk away without learning what it feels like to have Harry inside me, filling me — and from the look he’s wearing, I doubt he’s done with me. But I don’t know what else to do right now, so I straighten and button my slacks, eyes wandering the interior of his apartment.

  “Harry,” I breathe. “This place is beautiful.”

  In contrast to the ornate Victorian flourishes detailing the exterior of the main house and garage, Harry’s loft is decorated in a minimalistic yet deliciously cozy manner. The floor plan is open concept, the stone countertops of the kitchen area blending seamlessly into a comfortable seating area featuring two squashy couches and a velveteen armchair pulled around a wood-burning fireplace. Opposite from where I’m standing is a door that leads to a bathroom, and through a second door I see the rustic wooden footboard of a bed.

  My stomach clenches, imagining what we could do in that bed.

  “I know,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.

  “How did an undergrad manage to snag a place like this? It must cost a fortune.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  I examine his face for traces of dishonesty and find none. I step further into the loft, drinking in the tall windows that allow light to pour into the space from every angle. There’s another stained glass window over the window behind the kitchen sink, blues and golds and oranges that must look exquisite when the sun is shining through it.

  “Tell me more,” I say, running my hands over the cool stone of the kitchen counters.

  He shrugs. “There’s not much to tell. I didn’t want to live on campus, so was looking for off-campus housing. But everything was either too expensive or involved too many roommates, or both. Except for this place.” He follows me as I wander to the couches. “My landlord, Gary, is an elderly fellow that lives in the main house. He was searching for someone to do some light caretaking in exchange for housing. I applied and he liked me. So my rent payment is mowing his lawn, cleaning his house, raking the leaves, folding the laundry and going grocery shopping — that sort of thing.”

  “That’s a pretty sweet deal.” I turn to face him.

  He winds his arms around my waist, pulling me so close that our noses are practically touching. “I got lucky. It sort of fell into my lap.”

  Placing my hands on his strong shoulders, I push him down into the armchair behind him. I climb onto his lap, straddling him. “Like this?” I purr, pulling his shirt up to expose his muscular belly.

  “No,” he says, eyes on fire as I slide my palms up his chest and strip his shirt off. “This is much, much better.”

  “Good.” I lick his collarbone and send light kisses traveling down his ribs. “I’d hate to think that I couldn’t compete with Gary.”

  “I don’t think that’s something you have to worry about.” Harry’s voice grows tight as I work my way south. When I grasp the buckle of his pants this time he doesn’t push me away. I slide the leather open and unzip his pants and peel his navy boxers down.

  Harry emits a shuddering sigh when his erection blossoms before my eyes, red and ready to be touched. I wrap my mouth around him, pumping up and down his length before sucking in a rhythmic pattern. He drags in a shuddering breath, pushing his pelvis toward my face. I look up to see his eyes rolling back under his closing lids and smile, scraping him ever so gently with my teeth before applying more pressure. His cock, already standing at attention, grows hotter and harder as I coax more blood into it, massaging his balls as I do.

  I return to sliding him in and out of me, quickening my pace. Gliding a hand up the muscles of his abdomen, I feel his breath accelerate as well. His thighs flex on either side of my cheeks and a moment later he tangles his fingers in my hair.

  “Stop,” he orders, voice gravelly. I stop moving, but I don’t remove my mouth from him. I prick my eyebrows, silently asking what’s next.

  “If you keep going, you’re going to make me come,” Harry says.

  I give a little suck, giggling at my own mischief. I feel his dick twitch in my mouth. Before I can blink, Harry has me by the shoulders and is physically pulling me off him.

  “You like to play with fire, don’t you?” His voice is strained, but there’s no anger in his eyes.

  “Only if I’m not the one who gets burned.” I don’t quite recognize the sassy, defiant woman I’ve transformed into in Harry’s hands, but I think I like her. In fact, I’m sure I do. And it’s not because I’m ordinarily shy and retiring — anything but, which is one reason why a career as a confident, meticulous lawyer is a good fit for me.

  But I’ve never been this bold in the bedroom before now.

  “Well, you were about to get burned — or at least get your mouth filled with my come.” He tugs me up so I’m straddling him again. I feel his hardness begging for entrance at my clothed slit and grind against it.

  “We couldn’t have that, could we?” I croon into his ear.

  He sits up straight and digs his fingertips into my buttocks. “Not before I get to fill you up.”

  I nip at his jaw. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.” I swivel my hips and he pushes up into me. My clothing is blocking the way, but he still hits the right spot, making my belly clench in pleasure.

  “Enough waiting.” His words roll like thunder, making the skin on the back of my neck prickle.

  I barely have time to throw my arms around his neck for balance as he stands, holding me bodily in his arms. I knot my ankles behind his back, covering everything my mouth can reach with kisses as he carries me to the bedroom.

  There, he throws me down on a bed made up with soft sheets in a spectrum of gray hues and then lays himself over me. His weight is as comforting as it is thrilling. I don’t release him from my arms or legs, but use them to mold myself into every nook and cranny of his body as he sends his mouth crashing into mine.

  As quickly as he was on me, he’s gone. He moves to rustle in the drawer of one of the nightstands that frame the bed, penis still jutting proudly from his open pants. I shrug off my suit jacket and unbutton my shirt as I wait, eager to have nothing separating our skin.

  When Harry turns back to me, he’s holding a condom, azure eyes frolicking. I never would’ve thought that a man toting contraception could be sexy, but the sight of him makes my vagina positively quiver. Harry holding a condom means that our bodies are soon going to be one. I am beyond ready to know what that feels like.

  When his gaze falls on the pink lace of my bared bra, his jaw flexes and his eyes grow dark with desire. Watching him watch me, I open my slacks and begin to wriggle out of both them and my panties.

  Putting the wrapped condom between his teeth, Harry steps to the foot of the bed and divests me of my bottoms in a single swift motion, depositing my panties and underwear on the floor. Then he straddles my legs and scoops my torso off the bedspread. He drops the condom on the bed by his side. I smile, trailing fingertips over the light curls covering his chest, feeling so cherished and wanted in his arms.

  He presses a kiss against my clavicle, then pushes my jacket and opened shirt off as well. Still cradling my upper body, he reaches around and unclasps my bra. The slackened straps immediately fall over my shoulders and I shrug all the way out of them.

  “Oh, Kate,” he breathes as he lays me back down, taking in the twin swells of my breasts that end in nipples peaked with desire. “You’re so fucking exquisite.” He buries his face in my bosom, loving them thoroughly with kisses that make me flex up into his touch, heart fluttering. He finds my mound with one hand, inserting a finger into my
slick depths, tearing a guttural sigh from my throat. I clutch his head for dear life, burying my fingers in his hair.

  “You like that?” Harry demands. He examines my face with eyes like flint.

  I nod, gasping as he flicks his thumb over my clit.

  “I’m going to make you come again.” He takes one nipple into his mouth and sucks, hard.

  “No.” It’s hard to speak, but my need drives me.

  He freezes, staring up at me, finger still inside me. “No?”

  The words come more easily now. I lift my head from the bed and stare directly into his eyes. “No,” I repeat, voice gaining power. “I need you inside me. Now.”

  The flint in his eyes sparks into flame as the corners of his mouth curve upward. “Anything for you.”

  I spread my legs and he makes quick work of the condom. Then Harry shoves his arms beneath my back so that he’s palming my shoulder blades.

  A breath later, he impales me like I’ve been craving. I cry out, my knees hitching around my ears. I hold his face between my hands so that we can watch each other as he thrusts into me.

  Once his cock is wet with my juices, Harry finds a vigorous rhythm, pushing into me with power. I lift my pelvis to meet him with every crest of his hips, and it’s not long before we’re both slick with the sweat of our lovemaking.

  I feel so full, and this — us — feels so right. I’ve known this man for mere hours, but it’s already difficult to imagine what life was like without him in it — and in me.

  He shifts the angle of his body, and suddenly his tip nudges a new place within me. Fresh sensation washes over me, leaving me panting as something in my core coils tight.

  He pushes into me with more urgency, his forehead creased with his own effort and arousal. Suddenly that coil within me springs loose and I’m falling to pieces around him, crying out as my climax clamps my velvet lips tight around Harry’s hardness.