“Ty.”
“It’s okay. I’ll make it good for you. Just stay with me, Faith. Don’t stop me now.” And then he was buried to the hilt and he was true to his word, he made it good for her. Her bare stomach stuck to his as he ground his pelvis into hers. He pulled out, then plunged deep inside, touching her cervix and all the hot, tingling places inside.
“Mmmm, yes,” she whispered. “That feels good.” He moved again. “Like that. Right there. Don’t stop. You make it good, Ty.” In and out he thrust, and her breathing grew choppy, her skin tight as he pushed her faster and harder toward release.
“How good?” he asked, his voice a low growl.
“It’s so hot. So good. Don’t stop. Faster. Yes.” She sucked in a deep breath as he thrust into her harder and harder. His powerful muscles tightened, flexed, with each drive of his hips.
Her whole world narrowed and centered on Ty and where his body joined hers, stroking her inside and teasing her G-spot. Liquid fire poured through her body and burned her up from the inside out. Hot tingles spread across her flesh and she couldn’t remember sex ever being this good.
This intense. Maybe it had, but she didn’t think she’d ever been so absolutely consumed with the intense pleasure, wanting it so much that nothing else mattered. She opened her mouth to tell him not to stop. Before she managed to get the words from her throat, the first wave of orgasm hit. She moaned or screamed or something as it pulled her down and the scalding flames licked her body. Her heart pounded in her ears as Ty pounded into her body, untamed and unleashed in a hot sexual storm of hands and mouths and Ty’s enormous hard-on. Beautiful and intense and painfully sweet. Over and over, and it seemed to last forever and not nearly long enough. Her legs tightened around his waist as she rode out the last throbbing pulsations.
“Faith.” His breathing was heavy and strained. “You’re beautiful. Tight. Jesus.” Then he gave one long groan as if he’d pushed a boulder up a hill and heaved it over the other side.
When it was over and the night air began to cool her skin, Ty kissed the crook of her neck and she said, “Thank you. That was wonderful.”
He lifted his head and looked into her face. “This isn’t over,” he said.
She smiled. “No?”
“I’m sure we’ll probably regret this in the morning.” He lifted her off his still hard penis and set her on her feet. “We have a box of condoms and about six hours of really inappropriate sex to get busy on before sunup.” He pushed a strand of hair from the corner of her mouth. “If we’re going to regret it, let’s do something to really be ashamed aboat.”
Several hours later, Faith stood on the small putting green in Ty’s media room, wearing nothing but his blue dress shirt and red toenail polish. Her blonde hair fell down her back and she looked stunning and beautiful, especially for a woman who’d already made love three times that night. The last in his spa tub while little bubbles of air brushed their skin in interesting places.
“I remember now why I hate golf.” She held his club in her hands and gave an irritated shrug of her shoulders as his dress shirt rode up her thighs.
She was every fantasy that he’d ever had of her. Only much more, because she was softer and hotter and better in bed. It had been hard enough to keep his hands to himself before he’d made love to her. In a few hours he was going to give her up, and he didn’t fool himself that it would be easy. Perhaps if he just saw her as Playmate. As great tits and ass, but he didn’t. Somehow in the past few weeks, he’d grown to like her. Quite a lot.
“My boobs get in the way.”
Ty stepped behind her. “Let me help you with that.” He slid his hand beneath her arms and cupped her breasts. The back of his dress shirt brushed his bare chest. “Now try.”
She laughed as she swung and the ball flew toward the net. The radar registered twenty-five. “That’s worse than last time. There’s no help. My boobs are too big.”
“You’re not too big.” Round and white with tight pink nipples that fit perfectly into his mouth. “You’re perfect.” He wore a pair of old Levi’s and she nestled her behind into him. Like she had at the solarium, when he’d had incredible sex with her against the glass, a million stars about her head and the Seattle skyline around her body. It was the wildest lay he’d ever had, and he’d had a lot of wild lays in his thirty-five years. “You just need a man with big hands.”
She chuckled and lined up another ball. “Okay, but no distractions.”
“I’ll behave.”
“I saw Caddy Shack. There’s no talking in golf.”
She swung back and he whispered next to her ear, “I want to eat your bald peach.” The club flew out of her hands and landed across the room.
She turned and looked up at him. “I thought you were going to behave.”
“I am.”
“There’s no talking while someone is swinging.”
“I was whispering. That’s allowed on some courses.” He pointed at the ground. “My putting green. My rules.”
“You didn’t mention any rules.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts and looked up at him through her sparkling green eyes. “What are your other rules?”
“Women have to play naked.”
She tilted her head to one side and tried not to smile up at him. “How many women have played on your stupid little putting green?”