“So, you’re a breast man, great. You can’t think of anything better to do?”
He tilted his head, a devilish look in his eyes. “I could, but who knows when I’ll have these again?” He plumped the two soft mounds and darted back and forth between the nipples, a flick here, a suck there, interspersed with a nip, the sting soothed with a lick.
She growled and chuckled. With a final lick, he slid down further, placing kisses down her taut belly, to briefly stop at her navel, then to resume the journey south. He slid her panties down and she lifted a leg so he could sweep them off completely. His hands rested between her thighs and he pressed a kiss at the top of her warm folds. She moaned and her head fell back against the pillows. He spread her tender flesh with his thumbs and licked a long straight line from her opening up to her swollen nub at the top. He explored her thoroughly, devastating her completely until she exploded with a loud cry.
She slowly came back to reality to his gentle kisses, her fingers dug deep into his hair, holding him in place. He gave one final kiss and jerked reflexively, then he came back over her.
“Condom?” she asked breathlessly.
He stood and unzipped, sliding off both pant and briefs at the same time, slinging them over the chair. His arousal jutted out proudly from between his thighs, a drop of precum glistened at the opening of the plum-shaped head. He opened a side pocket in his bag and pulled out several condoms and tossed them on the bed.
She quirked a brow and smiled. “Feeling confident, are you?”
“Just prepared,” he replied.
She reached for him and he sidestepped. “Not this time. I won’t last.”
His words were strangled, strained and tense. “Fine. Then get over here.”
He rolled on the condom then climbed back on the bed and settled on top of her, his legs between hers, his cock rubbing between her folds. He claimed her lips in a deeply sensual kiss, reigniting her passion within moments. She wrapped her legs around him and nudged him insistently. He guided himself into her opening, slowly at first, her tightness resisting then softening around him. He kept his eyes steady on hers as he buried himself deep within. Finally, he was settled to the hilt.
“Ready?”
She nodded, tightening her inner muscles to clench around him. He groaned in response and began to move slowly at first then faster, driving deep, hard. Her hips lifted, matching him thrust for thrust. His gaze held hers, maintaining the connection. Passion overcame over her and she closed her eyes, feeling her orgasm a few breaths away.
She locked her legs around his waist as he hammered into her, driving harder and harder. Her muscles convulsed around him as she came with a loud cry. He followed right after her, roaring out his climax, then he collapsed on her, careful to lay slightly to the side to not crush her.
She rested her head against the pillow, her chest heaving with exertion. He faced her, his breath coming out harshly. She lifted her hand and laid it on his cheek. He turned and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting sleep overtake her finally.
*
Lucas woke hera few more times that night and they explored their passion until the dawn peeked over the sky. Finally, they fell into an exhausted sleep. Miranda woke first, stretching deliciously sore muscles. Lucas slept deeply next to her, his arm draped over her body, snoring lightly. She glanced at her watch and cursed under her breath. She had promised her father she’d call with an update on spring training. The day was jammed with meetings and games so he was expecting her call by eight and it was seven-thirty already.
She carefully wiggled out from under Lucas’s arm, gathered her skirt and top, and slipped into the bathroom to dress. She had no idea where her bra or panties had ended up. She’d deal with that later. For now, she had to get back to her own room and regroup before anyone knew what had happened.
Not that anyone was going to check her bedroom. The time for that had ended with beauty pageants along with curfews. She gently opened the bathroom door and spied her bag on the table by the door. She barely remembered bringing it in with her. She picked it up and gave Lucas one last lingering glance, resisting the urge to wake him again, headed out the door, holding it so it made no noise when it shut behind her.
*
Lucas stayed absolutelysilent, willing his breathing to remain regular and even. Finally, he heard the door close with a quiet snick. He sat up and rubbed a hand over his face. He knew they had to talk about this night, but he was pathetically glad she had snuck out without the morning-after conversation. He honestly had no idea what to say this time. Most of his partners weren’t associated with business so the morning after tended to be a civil exchange of clothes, platitudes about getting together again sometime—when both knew it wasn’t going to happen—and escorting her out, or leaving himself.
But last night had surpassed his expectations by a long home run. He had sensed passion lurking beneath Miranda’s skin, passion only for him. He had hoped spending time away from the stadium offices, away from the pressures of family and business, away from prying eyes, they could explore the possibilities between them.
He waited for the usual feeling of panic. Whenever he got too close with someone, it was always time to back off. But last night, the past few weeks with Miranda, he’d felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Like he’d come home.
He had thought it was coming back to Savannah, where he had grown up, but that wasn’t it. Miranda made him feel that way, relaxed, excited, connected. He found himself craving time with her, as if she grounded him, and he made sure he spent time with her daily, and not because it was his job. He liked it. He liked her.
How did she feel? Was it more than sex for her?