Page 15 of Crazy Love
I want to fuck her.
Bring her pleasure.
But when I reach for the waistband of her jeans, she stops me from releasing her fly.
“Not on a first date.”
Interesting. So she doesn’t put out in the way the guys would have me believe. I don’t attempt to twist her arm, coercion isn’t my style. Instead, I respect the boundaries she’s set and stay outside of her pants. I use my thumb instead, and trace a path downwards to the seam that sits right between her legs, then I use the knot of denim to massage her clit.
“Oh!” Her mouth becomes rounded, but I kiss her some more, so her subsequent sharp breaths are breathed into me. Her hips jig a little, getting me into exactly the right spot. I know when that is, because her focus becomes intense.
“Are you wet for me? I bet the itty bitty panties you have on are a sodden mess. I bet you’ve creamed all over them, and now you’re all slippery and wet and desperate for something to ride. I’d like to put my tongue into you. I want to taste you.” The little strangled sounds she makes tell me I’m on the right track. I lean closer, whisper right into her ear. “Is the devil on your shoulder saying, “fuck…fuck…fuck” and the angel on the other reciting hail Marys?”
“The only devil around here is you.”
I graze her earlobe with my teeth. “Flattery will get you everything.”
“I don’t fuck on a first date, no matter how much I want to.”
“But I’m tempting the hell out of you, right?” It’s a rhetorical question. I don’t actually need an answer, because she’s beneath me, and I can feel the heat of her skin, and see the blush across the top of her breasts. Her body rocks, hips lifting to maintain the contact with my hand, pressing, giving her the friction she needs, exactly where she needs it.
“You’ve done this before,” she crows, breath sharp and unsteady.
“Fucked on stage? I haven’t, actually.” I know that’s not what she meant. She means what I’m doing with my hand and fingers. And the truth is yes, I may have had a little bit of practice. Sex doesn’t always have to consist of plain old bump and grind. There are thousands of ways to get a woman off. I’m not going to pretend I’ve tried them all, but I have mastered a few, particularly the most important one. Engage the brain. Sex has to be more than just mechanics.
“How big is your clit?” I ask. “Does it get enormous when you’re turned on, and stand up all hard and eager? Is it standing up for me right now?” I find it through the denim and work it smoothly with my thumb.
“Oh fuck,” she says, trembling. “Just there.”
“Here?”
“Yeah…Nate...”
I turn so that I’m looking right at her again.
“Oh, God!” She breaks apart right beneath me, shivers rolling through her body, and her back arching up off the floor. Her head tips backwards, and I bite her chin as it points up at the ceiling. I stay right with her as she rides the wave.
“I like your come face too,” I tell her, before dropping a kiss onto the tip of her nose, and then pressing another to her lips. Her arms wrap around me and we roll into the darkness at the side of the stage.
Only in the shadows do we break apart.
Well, kind of, because her hands are still on my torso, holding me at arm’s length as if she’s not sure whether to push me away or drag me closer for another round of tongue wars.
“What are we doing?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“We have to stop.”
“That’d be wise.”
“I’m not sure I’m very wise. I shouldn’t have come in here.”
“Bollocks. It’s the best thing anyone has done all night.”
She grins so that her canines make an appearance. They’re sharp little points, like there’s a bit of Tepes blood in her, although her accent is pure Cornish without a hint of Wallachia. “Yeah, but…Soon.”
I nod, because I know. In a few short hours Graham Callahan is going to destroy whatever it is that’s growing between us by pitching us head to head in a fight to the death—I’m picturing battle of the bands, Hunger Games style. Wonder if I’m going to be throttled with a guitar string, smashed over the head with snare or just smothered to death feasting between the thighs of one of the best bass players on the planet. Yes, I rate her that highly, and dying while buried in her muff doesn’t seem such a bad way to go.
