“Found them!” she called, debating which kind to choose. She grabbed the spermicide box.
Elec was young and looked awfully healthy, so she might as well have the extra insurance.
He must have run, given the speed with which he appeared next to her.
“Oh!” she said when she turned and bumped right into him.
Elec smiled. “We have to stop running into each other like this.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I kind of like it.”
“That’s funny,” he said. “Cuz I like it, too.”
Oh, my. His bare chest was touching hers and his hands had found her butt and were squeezing. She should explain that she hadn’t been able to work out because of her schedule. She should warn him about the stretch marks. Apologize for the damage breast-feeding had wreaked on her once perky, now not so perky, br**sts.
The only man ever to see her fully naked had been Pete, and he had been there with her through the changes to her body. She felt a moment’s hesitation, a rising panic that she couldn’t be attractive enough or sexy enough for a man like Elec.
But then he kissed her mouth, slowly, sensually, kissed her jaw, her neck, each breast, just on the tip of the nipple. Then he bent down and slid his tongue along her navel, down into her belly button, and farther on, licking a trail right and left along the waistband of her panties. He knelt on the floor and kissed her on the front of the lace panties, on each inner thigh, his fingers tickling across the backs of her legs, and she forgot to worry, forgot everything but the desire he ignited in her, the ache that demanded she have more, the need to feel him fully inside her.
She forgot to feel anything but sexy when he so clearly desired her, wanted to explore her, and she stood straight, shoulders back, hair tumbling forward, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. It was good, all so good, and she was going to have sex with this man.
When he stood back up and nudged her backward, she went down on the bed willingly.
When he touched her panties, the last scrap of clothing covering her, and pulled them down, she ignored the momentary pang of modesty and swallowed hard, staring up at the ceiling to get control. She wanted to do this, wanted to know that she was still a woman, and when he kissed her right between the thighs, she knew she was still a woman capable of giving and receiving passion and pleasure and that this was her time to take back her identity, her turn to be selfish and sexual and empowered.
Elec moved his tongue slowly over her, top to bottom, like he was savoring the taste of her.
He pulled back, making her moan at the loss, then he returned with just the tip of his tongue, teasing her with light, quick movements, circling around her clit, but never touching it.
Tamara moved her hips, wanting more, tight with pleasure, feeling the ache build deep inside her.
“Do you want more?” he asked, casually stroking across her, his hands lightly resting on her thighs.
Um, yeah. Obviously he was a mind reader. “Yes,” she said, wondering if it would be rude to grab his hair for leverage. She gripped the sheets instead and tried to remember to breathe, tried not to squirm and flop around in an ecstasy that came dangerously close to agony. She didn’t want to look desperate and unattractive, she wanted to be sexy and artful and elegant.
“Okay.”
Then Elec plunged his tongue inside her and Tamara decided to screw elegant. When had she ever been that anyway? And what was the point in holding back, denying herself any piece of this experience? She was this far in, might as well toss out the last of the old inhibitions and just say what she felt. So she arched her back, grabbed his hair with both hands, and let go of the most outrageous moan she had ever emitted in her entire sexual existence. That felt so good. Beyond good. Better than great. More than amazing.
It was two years of celibacy, of clamping down on her desire, erupting all at once, and when he flicked his warm tongue over her tight clitoris, she broke, and let the orgasm rush over her.
CHAPTER THREE
ELEC held on to Tamara’s thighs for leverage and kept tasting her, his body hard and aching and totally overwhelmed at how freaking sexy she was. When she came for him, her hands yanking on his hair, her back up, her thighs wrapping around him, the rich scent of her arousal filling his nostrils, he almost lost it himself. He could feel her muscles contracting, feel the tremors that raced through her legs, and the spasms of her fingers jerking on the roots of his hair. It was a big one, and he felt both pride and want so intense he closed his eyes and swallowed hard, his c**k throbbing on her leg.
Get control, that’s what he needed to do. He didn’t want it to be over before he started, and that was a very real possibility given that he was dangling on the edge already just from giving her o**l s*x. Once he went in, it was going to take everything in him not to just explode in thirty seconds or less. Tamara was wiggling beneath him, her breathing ragged.
“Where are you going?” he asked, prying his eyes open and giving her a searching look. He hoped she wasn’t having regrets already.
“I’m just shifting,” she said, her eyes glassy, her hair falling forward on the left side and sticking to her lip. “Sit up.”
“What? Why?” If she made him leave now, he was fairly certain he would weep.
But Tamara was sitting up and getting on her knees and tugging him up and . . .
Holy shit.
It finally clicked what she was doing.
She was offering to give him head.
Elec should tell her that wasn’t necessary. That he didn’t expect reciprocation. That he was too close, anyway, and maybe they should just proceed to the main event.
But then he was on his knees, and she was on all fours in front of him, and her hair was falling forward in a sensual cascade, and he could see the bumps of her spine down her delicate back to the peek of her very cute ass, and his protest died on his lips. Then her mouth was on him and he about died along with his protest. Apparently o**l s*x was like riding a bike—once you knew how, you never forgot. There was no evidence that it had been two years since Tamara had been with a man. She was working him over from tip to shaft, sucking with skill and enthusiasm, forcing him to grit his teeth and grip her shoulders.
“That feels so goddamn good,” he said as her warmth surrounded him, pulling and sliding along his erection.
She made little sounds, like she was pleasing herself pleasing him, and Elec closed his eyes again. He couldn’t see her and feel her, it was too much, he was too close. He kept his eyes screwed shut, mind empty, feeling the suck and pull of her hot mouth on his throbbing cock, the slick slide of her saliva over his flesh, and wanting it to never end at the same time he knew he only had about thirty seconds of control left in him. When she went deep, taking all of him, he groaned and jerked back on the bed, panting.