Home > Starfire (Peaches Monroe #3)(11)

Starfire (Peaches Monroe #3)(11)
Author: Mimi Strong

The music changed to an Abba song, and a few people skating the circuit cheered. Adrian considered this busy for the rink? We weren’t alone, but the place wasn’t exactly crowded, either. A dozen little kids were racing around as fast as their parents would let them, and another forty people were skating around at a more leisurely pace. A good portion were white-haired seniors, with big smiles on their faces.

Adrian and I started skating, both of us a little rough at first, but getting into the flow. Soon we were skating along smoothly, holding hands like most of the other couples, and Adrian got cocky enough to drop my hand and skate ahead to do a spin for me. He actually pulled it off, causing me to say, “Not bad, Mr. Storm.”

He came back to my side, put his arm across my shoulder, and used his free hand to tilt my chin toward him. He kissed me as we skated past the speakers. I kept my eyes open for balance, but he closed his, getting that dopey, sweet look guys get when they can’t believe they’re kissing someone.

The lights dimmed, the music changed to a romantic folk rock song, and the small kids filed off the rink. Adrian kept kissing me, and our skating speed slowed and slowed.

I noticed a very grown-up feeling I was having between my legs. Miss Kitty was purring.

We came to a standstill near the gate we’d come in through. My purse was checked into a storage cubby back at the skate rental counter, but our shoes and leftover pasta boxes were sitting up in the bleachers.

I pulled away from Adrian’s succulent lips and glanced up toward our pile of stuff, halfway up the bleachers and barely visible. “We could take a break and finish our dinner,” I said.

He reached up and touched my ear. I’d forgotten I was wearing earrings. My earlobe pinched as he fiddled around with the earring, probably looking for the backing and not realizing they were clip-ons. The first one fell off into his hand, and he’d barely touched the other one when it did the same.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“We’re recreating lost teen experiences, aren’t we? Let’s go up into the dark bleachers for some good, old-fashioned necking.”

“Necking! You sound so old-timey.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and ran his fingers down my neck, then along my throat to my collarbone.

He murmured, “Your heart’s beating fast.”

“From all the rollerskating,” I lied.

“Nobody’s looking. Quick, let’s get on up there.”

I pushed open the hip-height wooden door, freshly painted but dented from decades of hockey games. In the winter, rollerskating switched to ice skating and hockey games, and the arena would be packed every Saturday night with hockey fans and parents.

We climbed up, stepping sideways so we didn’t murder ourselves on our roller skates. We grabbed our things and proceeded up higher and higher, until we were in darkness. I could barely see Adrian’s face, but I found his lips easily.

We kissed, sitting next to each other on the flat wooden bleacher step. I took his lower lip in my mouth and felt carefully with my tongue for the tiny scar from his lip ring.

He pressed his tongue hungrily into my mouth as one hand came across and landed on my bare knee.

He moved his lips away from mine, and over to my ear. He took my earlobe in my mouth and gently sucked it, the way he had my thumb. My skin prickled all over, and I felt myself begin to glow with sweat.

Moving down my neck, he licked and sucked and gently bit my skin until I was moaning. I could hear the crackle of his saliva as he sucked my neck, let go, and held it again with gentle pressure.

At the same time, his hand moved slowly up my leg with trepidation, like the hand of a young guy trying to get to third base for the first time.

I whispered, “Adrian, are you trying to get to third base?”

He pulled his hot mouth away from my neck, the saliva evaporating and cooling my neck suddenly. To accentuate this, he blew air gently on my neck. I shuddered with pleasure at the sensation.

In the shadows, I saw him lick his lips, then say, “It would be a crime for me to skip second base.” His gaze was directly on my peaches, looking luscious and heaving from my rapid breathing.

“May I?” he asked, holding out both hands, inches from my sweater puppies.

I grabbed his hands by the wrists and brought his hands firmly to me, squeezing over his hands to get him started.

“This is heaven,” he said, squeezing them together and lowering his face to the crease, breathing deeply.

I entwined my fingers in his hair and held him tightly to me—not smothering-tightly, but firm enough to let him know I liked him touching me.

“You smell f**king unbelievable,” he said, his voice muffled.

My elbow over his head, I reached around to my back and unzipped my dress several inches. I shrugged the wrap dress down, and it fell to my waist. The cool, musty air of the rink hit my moist skin and brought the moment into crystal clarity. I unlatched my bra and let it fall away.

I braced my hands on the flat surface behind me, and leaned back, my torso at an angle and my hard ni**les pointing at Adrian as an invitation. Oh, how I wanted his smart-talking mouth on my breast, his tongue circling my nipple.

He took a deep breath, got up from his seated position, and came around to kneel before me. Without a word or glance at my bare tits, he unlaced one of my roller skates and pulled it off my foot, and then the other. He grasped my knee pads and also removed them.

When I saw him slip my folded-up knee pads under his own knees, I realized what he was doing, and laughed nervously. He was planning to be on his knees for a while. I shivered at the thought, and then we were kissing again, his hand on the back of my neck to bring me down to reach him.

He left my lips and kissed a trail along my cheek, and then down the neck, on the side where he hadn’t been yet. As he sucked my earlobe, my whole body squirmed, as if all of me was trying to get into his beautiful, wet mouth via my earlobe.

Adrian shifted back, placed both hands against the small of my bare back, and moved his face down my chest. His smooth, freshly-shaved chin slid easily across my skin, and he rubbed the sides of his cheeks along the outer edge of each breast and around the bottom with his chin. Finally, he targeted my nipple, taking it in with a wide open mouth, slurping as much margin of flesh as he could.

He sucked, the sound of his mouth crackling again in the dark, relative quiet of the upper bleachers. The speakers were miles away, and the music was good, but I was barely aware of the song playing. With Adrian’s hands on my back and his mouth on my breast, I was contained only within his touch, and nothing else in the world mattered.

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