Читать книгу Real Men: Rugged Rebels: Watch and Learn / Under His Skin / Her Perfect Hero - Jeanie London, Jeanie London - Страница 19

AT THE SIGHT of Chev’s receding back, unexpected disappointment billowed in Gemma’s chest, leaving her breathless with confusion. Her watch-me games had never before included this element of … loss. Part of the thrill had been the fact that it was a stranger watching her, a person she would probably never see again. Performing for Chev had seemed safe because he was moving on in a couple of weeks. She hadn’t anticipated missing him after he was gone. If this achy sensation was any indication of how she would feel when he was out of her life, she might be in trouble.

Gemma put her hand to her throat, felt the heat there. Having his eyes on her during the tour had heightened her excitement to nearly unbearable levels. It was as if he were next to her, stroking her, whispering in her ear. For the first time, she’d wanted the crowd to disappear and leave her alone with one man, this man who could bring her body to the brink of orgasm simply by raking his dark brown eyes over her. If Chev could do such amazing things to her erogenous zones with only a glance, what kind of havoc could he wreak with his hands … his cock? A shiver raised gooseflesh on her scorching skin.

After letting management know she’d had a reporter in her group, she moved through the last tour of the day like an automaton. The rain had diminished but the soggy drive home seemed so interminable she thought she might break through her skin. She couldn’t wait to get home, but was half-afraid of what might happen when she did.

Chev’s truck sat near the curb, empty, but lights were on throughout the Spanish house. Puddles of muddy water sat in his construction-torn yard. Her yard looked almost as bad from the rain and the mess that the peacock had left her with. She leaned forward and looked up into the bird’s favorite tree but didn’t see the telltale swoop of tail hanging down. Perhaps the weather had driven him on to fairer skies.

She pulled the car into the garage and walked inside, her heartbeat thumping wildly. Still wearing her thin raincoat, she climbed the steps to the second floor, barely registering the stuffiness of the still air. The rain falling on the roof of the house lent an insular, cozy feel to her bedroom. She donned the black mask and walked directly to the picture window, wondering if Chev would show up at his to watch her. When she pushed aside the filmy curtain, she inhaled sharply.

He was there, waiting for her.

The light in the room behind him silhouetted his wide shoulders and broad chest. Still in his dress clothes, he stood with hands braced on either side of the rain-streaked pane, his gaze dark and hungry.

For her.

Gemma shrugged out of her coat, let it fall to the floor. She loved the fact that the rain had fogged the edges of the glass, had softened her frame. The white bustier had constricted her all day, pushing her breasts up and out. Now her increased breathing threatened to spill them over the top of the garment. Her nipples were showing, hard and extended. She pressed them against the window, gasping at the shock of the coolness on the sensitive tips. Her eyes closed involuntarily against the sensations spiraling through her body. She wished she could make the session last but knew she was too wound up to draw it out.

When her eyes fluttered open, though, Chev was gone.

Gemma pressed a hand against the frame in distress. Rejection and shame washed over her. She turned away, panicked by the emotions bombarding her. She couldn’t need this man … she couldn’t. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes.

Then the sound of the doorbell pealed into the house.

CHEV WAITED in front of Gemma’s door, water streaming off his hair and fingertips. Enough was enough. Watching her would no longer satisfy his lust for her. If she didn’t answer the door, he’d leave her alone. Because as much as she obviously loved being an exhibitionist, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He held his breath and listened for noise inside the house, any indication that she was going to answer the door. Several seconds went by … then a minute … then two.

Chev pulled his hand down his face in frustration and turned to go. So be it.

And then the door scraped open.

He turned back to see Gemma standing there, still wearing the mask and holding the black raincoat in front of her. Her eyes were questioning but unwavering.

He reached her in two strides and gathered her in his arms, lowering a savage kiss on her mouth. She came alive, responding with the intensity he’d known she possessed, her movements frantic and a little desperate. He backed her into the house and kicked the door closed. Her raincoat slid to the floor. Chev deepened the kiss, exploring her sweet mouth, the prospect of experiencing all of her making his hands quake.

Gemma moved toward the staircase and pulled him with her. She half reclined, half pulled herself up the steps backward with him on top of her, crawling over her to keep up with her, snatching a kiss here, dropping a bite there. She smelled of an enticing mix of earthy perfume and rain.

“I’m getting you wet,” he murmured, licking the moisture from her collarbone.

“Yes, you are,” she whispered in a husky tone that sent another surge of lust ripping through his body. With both hands, he nudged the red skirt higher to reveal the miniscule white thong underneath. The knowledge that she’d been wearing it all day while he watched her at the museum sent a jolt to his balls. Taking advantage of the leverage the stairs provided, he knelt between her knees and lowered his head to capture the thin fabric in his teeth. When she moaned and thrust her hips up, he buried his head between her thighs and tongued her heated folds through the thin barrier, inhaling her rich, womanly scent.

She drove her fingers into his hair, urging him on. It was all the encouragement he needed to roll the thong down her legs for full access to the nest of light brown hair that at this moment held the answer to every question pummeling his body. He clasped her bare thighs and opened her legs wider to him, then lowered his mouth to her glistening sex, kissing, licking and sucking her engorged clit. Her musky nectar filled his mouth, fueling his desire for her to unbearable heights.

From her frustrated noises, he sensed that she, too, was close to the edge. “Please, Chev … please.”

He stabbed his tongue inside her and moaned against her sensitive pink flesh to send vibrations to her pleasure centers. Concentrating on her enjoyment helped to keep his own arousal in check. She came with a great anguished cry of satisfaction, her clit pulsing against his tongue, her knees squeezing his shoulders. Masculine pride filled his chest that he could deliver her to a place where only physical joy mattered. He allowed her to recover for a few seconds, but he knew his own body well enough to know that he couldn’t hold out much longer.

He picked her up and carried her the rest of the way up the stairs to her bedroom. When he released her, she slid down his body with her arms looped around his neck, a sleepy, sexy smile on her face beneath the mask. He kissed her beauty mark, then claimed her mouth. He reached under the skirt to cup her bare ass in both hands, feeling her wetness on his fingers.

She pulled his damp shirt over his head, then unfastened the waistband of his slacks and lowered the zipper. Chev stepped out of them, shucking his waterlogged shoes and socks in the process. His briefs clung to him, his desire for her unrepressed. He reached for her, wanting to rid her of her clothes, but Gemma pushed him toward the bed and urged him to sit. Then she walked out of arm’s reach.

When she began to unlace the white bustier, Chev leaned back on his elbows to enjoy the show. With the skirt rucked up, hugging her thighs, her bare, tanned legs looked a mile long in those red high heels. His cock surged. Clear liquid oozed out of the head that protruded from the waistband of his briefs, pooling on his stomach. She slowly unlaced the bustier and allowed her breasts to fall free. He groaned to see the magnificent globes up close, his hands itched to touch the distended pink nipples.

She turned away from him and gave him a coy smile over her shoulder, then shimmied the skirt down to her ankles. Her tight ass made his mouth water, but when she bent over to step out of the garment, the view made the moisture on his tongue evaporate.

“Come to me,” he commanded, his voice hoarse.

She turned and walked to the bed, her breasts bouncing, her thighs still shimmering with wetness.

“Take off the mask.”

She shook her head. “I like it better this way.”

Not in a position to argue, Chev pushed off his underwear, releasing his raging erection. She climbed on top of him and wrapped her fingers around his dick. The sensation made him buck. He clasped her hand. “I have to have you now. Let me get a condom before I explode.”

Gemma stopped and for several agonizing heartbeats, Chev feared she would say that she didn’t want to have sex. She seemed to be balancing on some sort of precipice and for an angry split second, he thought it was good that she could trust him. If she said no, he would find a less pleasurable way to achieve his release, but another man who had been tantalized by her watch-me games might not be so accommodating.

“I have a condom,” she said finally, then leaned over to a nightstand and removed one from the drawer.

Her ex-husband’s condoms, he realized in a haze. With her hands on him, rolling on the thin sheath, he frankly didn’t care where it had come from.

Chev flipped her onto her back and settled his body over hers. He feasted on her breasts, sucking and biting on her nipples until they were hardened and scarlet.

“Yes,” she murmured. “Oh, yes.”

Chev had always prided himself on taking it slow with his lovers, but with Gemma, he felt feverish. And suddenly, he couldn’t wait any longer. He kissed her mouth and her neck, then entered her silky channel in one deep thrust. Her body clenched around his like an exquisite spring—he set his jaw against the tornadic pull of her core.

Even as his body found a rhythm with hers, something akin to fear reared in his chest … it had never been like this before. This … force that seemed to be drawing the life fluid out of him. She lifted her hips to meet him stroke for stroke, her nails digging into his shoulders. Behind the mask her eyes were glazed with passion.

He tried to maintain control, but within a few seconds, he felt his body racing toward paradise. Her cries escalated and she climaxed again, contracting around the length of him in waves. Chev surrendered to the power of her and shot rope after rope of his essence, shuddering at the sheer intensity of being emptied so completely.

When their moans had subsided, he lowered his body gingerly, careful not to crush her, and rolled to the side. Gasping for breath, he lay staring at Gemma’s still-masked profile, reeling from the emotions plowing through him. When had this happened? When had he fallen for her? And what could possibly come of it?

As if by mutual consent, they didn’t speak. The rain falling on the roof was hypnotic, prolonging their fantasy state. Dusk was giving way to darkness quickly, casting shadows across the bedroom. The scent of their lovemaking filled the air and incredibly, Chev wanted her again. He reached for her hand, twined their fingers. “Gemma—”

“Shh,” she whispered, putting a finger to his lips. Then she pushed herself up to straddle him. Her magnificent breasts swung heavily, the large peaks within easy reach of his lips. “Let’s think of something to do with our mouths other than talk.”

The woman was nothing if not persuasive. Chev opened his mouth to receive an engorged nipple and sucked hungrily, determined to grant every sexual wish Gemma had, hoping that she would allow him to stay in her bed … and perhaps, in her life.