Her halloween treat, p.13
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       Her Halloween Treat, p.13

         Part #1 of Men at Work series by Tiffany Reisz
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  “It didn’t.”

  “No?”

  “I liked seeing that side of you. I thought you were so quiet and laid-back.”

  “I am.”

  “Not last night. You were intense last night.”

  “Too intense?”

  “Perfect,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer. She needed to get him naked and fast. Her body remembered the warmth of his skin on hers and ached to feel it again. “I want you to be with me the way you want to be with me. Don’t hold back. I can take it.”

  “You took it last night pretty well.”

  “Only pretty well?”

  “Very well,” he said, nuzzling his lips to her neck. “You want to take it again?”

  “And again and again and again...”

  Chris kissed her mouth and she ran her hands down his back. She slipped her hands under his shirt, desperate to touch him. After all that hard work, his body had grown hot to the touch and her cool skin bristled with pleasure as his heat suffused her. She wanted more more more of him and she couldn’t get it fast enough.

  “Please get naked,” she said into his ear as his fingers found her jeans zipper.

  “You first.”

  “But—”

  “Wait. Patience is its own reward.”

  “So is your body.”

  “If you don’t behave...”

  She heard the warning tone in his voice and she liked it way too much.

  “If I don’t behave, then what?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said as he knelt and started pulling her jeans down. “But I know we’ll both like it.”

  He had her naked in seconds but he kept his clothes on. She found this both delightful and infuriating. And she told him so.

  “You’re greedy,” he said as he nudged her legs open with his knees.

  “I’m wet.”

  “You’re trying to get me naked before I’m ready. It won’t work.”

  “I’m really, really wet?”

  “I’ll take my clothes off when I’m good and ready and not a second sooner.”

  “You’re doing this to torture me.”

  “I might be. But this should make up for it.”

  “What will make—”

  Chris slipped a finger inside her.

  “Oh, that,” she said. “That’s a start.”

  “You weren’t lying. You are wet.”

  He lay on his side and cradled her head in his arm and against his chest as he touched her. This was unexpectedly pleasant—naked skin against his flannel. His shirt felt as soft and warm as the sheets she’d slept on as a kid at the cabin. If Chris wasn’t careful she would steal one of his flannel shirts to take back with her to Hawaii.

  Joey closed her eyes and moved her hips with his hand as Chris stroked inside her, first with one finger, then two and finally three. The man was good with his hands, that was for sure. He was gentle and slow. No pistoning, no prodding. Just caressing, exploring, stimulating.

  “What feels good to you?” he said into her ear, and if she hadn’t been wet before, that question asked by this man in that tone of voice would do it.

  “Um, well, if you push in a little a few inches inside and rub back and forth that’s good.”

  “Here?” He touched a spot.

  “A little higher.”

  “Here?”

  He touched another spot and Joey inhaled sharply.

  “Yeah,” Chris said. “That was it.”

  “That was it,” she said breathlessly.

  He pushed into the spot, softly at first and then harder. She could sense him watching her face, listening to her breathing, gauging her reactions.

  “Can you come from this?” he asked as he rubbed that spot inside her in a tight circle.

  “If you keep doing that I will.”

  “Then I will keep doing this. I want to feel you come on my fingers.”

  “Then will you get naked?”

  “If you come on my fingers?”

  “Yes.”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “But I better feel it.”

  “Keep doing that and you’ll feel it.”

  “I won’t stop until you beg me to. And only then.”

  He kissed her ear and she shivered at his warm mouth and hot breath on his skin. Shivered again as he massaged inside her. And God, it was good. His fingers grazed every nerve along the wet inner walls of her body. Pleasure spiked deep into her stomach, up her back, into her upper thighs. Her head fell back and she moaned quietly.

  “You can be louder,” Chris said.

  “I don’t want the neighbors to hear.”

  “They’ve put up with me sledgehammering today. Trust me, the sound of you coming is much better than that.”

  “Maybe I don’t want them to hear me come. Maybe I only want you to hear me come.” She met his eyes and smiled. He kissed that smile right off her face. And still his fingers moved in her as he kissed her. In all her life she’d never had a more wicked, teasing man inside her. He seemed to know just when she was getting this close to coming. Then he’d push in deeper or turn his hand or pause to kiss her breasts again. Anything to delay her orgasm. Yet she couldn’t complain. Who would? An incredibly sexy man had his fingers inside her. This was so much better than lunch.

  “Please let me come,” she said.

  “Why do you want to come so much?” he asked, brushing her clitoris lightly with his thumb. “Aren’t you enjoying this?”

  “I love it.”

  “Then I shouldn’t rush.”

  “But you won’t get naked until I come.”

  “No, ma’am. I won’t.”

  “I want you naked and I want to come and you won’t let me. So unfair.”

  “Caught between a cock and a hard place, aren’t you? You poor thing.”

  Joey laughed, which should have been an awkward thing, laughing while completely naked with three fingers that weren’t hers inside her. But it didn’t feel awkward. It felt right. Everything with Chris felt right. Too right. She would steal more than his flannel shirts to take back with her when she returned home to Hawaii. If he wasn’t careful, she’d steal him, too.

  “Chris.” She looked him straight in the eyes.

  “Joey.”

  “I would rather have you naked right now than come, that’s how bad I want you naked. And that’s bad. Because I really want to come.”

  She tensed her inner muscles around his fingers so he knew she meant it.

  “Damn,” he said. “You trying to break my hand?”

  “Never. I like those hands too much.”

  “They like you. They like you very, very much.”

  “If they really liked me, they would strip your clothes off you. That’s what hands are good for.”

  “How about we make a deal?”

  “I like your deals.”

  “I let you come now. And then I take off my clothes. And you let me come on you.”

  “On me?”

  He nodded. “On you.”

  “Deal,” she said. “Should we shake on it?”

  “Well. I would. But...” He glanced down at his hand between her thighs. “Let’s just call it an oral agreement. No, that’s a different thing.”

  “You’re wonderful,” she said because she couldn’t help herself, because he was wonderful. He was, in fact, every kind of wonderful she could think of—sexy, sweet, totally wicked in bed, handsome, talented, hard-working, hard. Very, very hard.

  Chris’s expression changed a little when she said that. He didn’t smile like she thought he would. The look he gave her was almost somber, a little wistful.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Just trying to remember what I told you about good pain.”

  “Hurts already,” she said.

  “But still worth it.”

  “Definitely still worth it.”

  They kissed once more, a long, lingering kiss. She would think about this kiss and t
his moment when she was on the plane back to Hawaii. She knew that already. And she would remind herself what they decided, that they were adults who were allowed to make choices they would later regret. Or not regret.

  But probably regret.

  But Joey didn’t regret it yet. So she threw her leg over Chris’s to open up more for him, to invite him deeper and to take what he had to give her for as long as they had together.

  Inside her she felt the sweetest ache and his fingers rubbed that ache. The miracle of his touch was that the ache grew stronger the more he touched it, and yet only his touch could relieve the aching. He caused the ache. He cured the ache. He made her ache all over again.

  Joey clung to his shoulder as he touched her, and it wasn’t long before she was there, right there, at the edge again so ready to come she could scream. But she didn’t want to scream because she’d told Chris the truth—she wanted only him to hear her come. Her pleasure was for his ears only. She breathed heavy and hard as muscles inside her knitted themselves into taut knots that clenched and released, clenched and released, and clenched and held and clenched, and tightened...and then released all at once, all around his fingers, all around his hand.

  With a soft moan Joey’s head fell back onto the bed and her entire body went soft and slack. She heard Chris chuckling, a sexier sound she’d rarely heard.

  “Good girl. You almost broke my hand.”

  “I’d apologize but...I don’t want to.”

  “No apologies necessary.”

  “Your turn,” she said.

  “It is, isn’t it.”

  Chris slid off the bed and stood up. Somehow Joey found the strength to lift her head and watched him undress. He kept his promise and stripped completely naked for her. She liked the way he took his clothes off—so perfunctory, so careless. He wasn’t putting on a show for her. Just getting the job done. When he shed his boxer briefs she saw his erection, already hard and thick and eager for her. And she wanted it inside as much as it wanted to be in her. He rolled on a condom and settled in on top of her. There it was, the heat of his naked skin on hers again, that delicious heat. She craved it and her skin tingled with happiness to feel his weight and his length and his hardness against her from shoulder to thigh.

  “You still want to be on top?” he asked.

  She nodded. “If you’ll let me.”

  “For a few minutes. But only because you said please and only because I’m such a gentleman.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them so that he lay on his back and she on top of him. Now that she’d come she was both wet and open. She grasped his cock in her hand, guided him inside her and slid back to take every inch. Chris inhaled as she enveloped him with her body and his eyes closed and she was pretty sure she’d never forget this moment as long as she lived. Carefully she moved on him, finding a pace and a rhythm that suited them both. She placed her hands flat on his chest to hold herself over him and moved her hips in a slow undulation that took him deep within her and then out nearly to the tip before taking him back in again. Chris ran his calloused fingertips up her bare back and she sighed and giggled at the tickling sensation. Her nipples hardened from the gentle pressure of his hands on her.

  “I only get eleven days with you.” She sighed. “I want you in every way. On top. On bottom. From behind. Against the wall.”

  “Flat on your back on the bench seat in my pickup with your skirt yanked up around your waist and your ass in my hands?”

  “You’ve given this some thought.”

  “That might be a leftover fantasy from high school.”

  “Truck sex?”

  “Truck sex.”

  “You bring the truck. I’ll bring the skirt.”

  “Another deal,” he said.

  He took her hips in his hands to guide her movements. Even underneath her he still had to be in charge. She didn’t mind letting someone else run the show if that person knew exactly what he was doing. Which Chris did. God, did he know what he was doing. Under her he rocked his hips back and forth while he guided her up and down the length of him. Joey groaned and dropped her head to his chest, kissing it, biting it, biting his collarbone and shoulders, as he rocked more and more beneath her. The temperature in the room skyrocketed. Chris kissed her neck—hard. And sucked her nipples—hard. And when it seemed he couldn’t stand being trapped on the bottom anymore, he rolled them onto her back and thrust into her—hard.

  Joey didn’t complain about the sudden change of position. She had nothing to complain about, and even if she wanted to complain, she was too busy panting to get any words out. Chris rode her with long deep thrusts and his strong hands on her ribs right under her breasts, holding her down gently but firmly, putting her in her place, which was under him and around him and with him, and that was a damn good place to be in that moment.

  She loved the way he fucked her so that she felt sexy and dirty and wicked and yet somehow safe and comfortable, too. She couldn’t stop touching him now, running her hands up his taut arms to his broad shoulders and down his chest and his stomach to his hips and iron thighs that he used to control his powerful thrusts. She felt him lifting her off the bed and knew he wasn’t and yet with her eyes closed it seemed she floated with him a few inches up and going higher, and higher, still higher...and with a crash she came down again as she shook with an orgasm she hadn’t expected so quickly after her first one. As she came back to awareness, she felt warm wetness on her stomach and breasts. She opened her eyes to see Chris holding his cock in his hands, coming on her body in a few hard spurts. She met his eyes—they were open—and she didn’t look away. It was terrifyingly intimate, locking eyes as he came. He looked at her with real desire, real tenderness. Honest desire. Honest tenderness. There was no deceit in Chris Steffensen. None. What she saw was what she got and what she saw was pretty damn good.

  Chris exhaled heavily and she watched the last of his tension drain from his body. He bent and kissed her lightly on the lips.

  “I liked that,” he whispered.

  “Me, too,” she whispered back. They had no reason to whisper other than lovers whispered in bed and they were officially lovers now.

  “Take a shower with me.”

  “Is that an order?”

  “If you obey it, it is.”

  “Then it’s an order.”

  He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her off the bed. The bathroom was lovely, if rustic, or perhaps lovely and rustic. She wondered if the tile on the floor was original to the hotel.

  “I don’t know,” Chris said. “They’re good at finding craftsmen who can match the original look.”

  “Like you?”

  “The fireplace is easy work. The sons and grandsons of the original carpenters do most of the heavy lifting around here.” Chris turned on the shower and the water heated up quickly. “I was here one day with them and this old guy and his wife walked past
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