Текст книги "Wicked Beat"
Автор книги: Olivia Cunning
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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
She smiled, knowing that he needed a reprieve from the emotional barrage she’d just subjected him to. “Suck?” She licked her lips and reached for his fly. “Well, if you insist.”
Chapter 32
Rebekah kissed Eric’s cheek and opened the car door. She honestly wasn’t looking forward to spending the evening pretending to be Isaac’s doting girlfriend. Especially at a party guaranteed to be boring.
Eric caught her hand before she could get out. “I’m considering becoming a jealous prick and making a scene, just so you know.”
“I might buy that if you had anything to be jealous about.”
“What time will you be home?”
“Early,” she promised.
He kissed her knuckles and released her hand. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I’ll be fine. Isaac promised he would bring me home as soon as we can get away. You and I will have plenty of fun tomorrow.” On Eric’s birthday.
“Why tomorrow?”
“No reason.” She grinned. He’d been trying to get her to reveal something for days. She’d put together over two dozen surprises for Eric’s birthday to celebrate his life and hers. Well, mostly she’d be celebrating his cock, but she didn’t think he’d mind.
She kissed him good-bye and stepped from the car, smoothing her hands over her black cocktail dress to make sure everything was in place. She closed the car door and offered Eric a wave as he drove off. When Isaac opened his apartment door to answer her knock, he didn’t look any too pleased to see her.
“Let’s get this over with,” he said.
“I’m fine, thanks, how are you?”
“I’ve been better.”
He locked the apartment door behind him and headed for the stairwell. She followed him, seconds from telling him to forget this favor if he was going to act like an ass all night.
“What’s wrong?” Rebekah asked him.
“Trey left me.” He stopped dead in his tracks and Rebekah bumped into his back.
She took his arm and turned him to face her. His brow crumpled, and he took a deep shaky breath. If he starting crying, she was totally going to join him. “What? Like permanently?”
He raked a hand through his perfectly arranged loose curls, mussing them in a most charming way. “I don’t know. He said until I get my head on straight. Whatever that means.”
“I’m sorry. I hope you can work things out.”
“It’s just an excuse. I know he sees other people. When I hinted that I wanted things to be serious between us, he… lost interest.”
Rebekah sighed. “Isaac, I probably should have warned you.
Trey is wonderful, but he’s kind of hung up on someone else.”
“Brian?”
Stunned, Rebekah stared at him with her mouth hanging open.
“How did you know?”
“He talks about the guy nonstop. At first I thought they were just best friends, but he even murmurs his name in his sleep.” Isaac flushed. “I probably shouldn’t talk about this with you.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“You really are terrific.” His soft gray eyes swept up her figure from carefully styled hair to the pink toenails peeking out of her strappy heels. “You look sensational, by the way. If I was into girls, I’d definitely be thinking inappropriate thoughts right now.”
She laughed, glad the tension between them had eased. “You’re quite the charmer, Dr. Crandall.”
He helped her into his car, and they headed to his parents’ house.
He told her about some fancy diagnostic machine they’d installed at his father’s clinic and how it would make the office cutting-edge. “I can’t wait to be a part of it. They already have more patients than they can handle. This is an amazing opportunity for me.”
“You’ll be awesome,” she said.
“Assuming I don’t mess this up. Thanks for helping me out, angel.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
When they arrived, a valet took Isaac’s car and parked it somewhere in the next county. Isaac settled a hand on her lower back to guide her into the sprawling Mediterranean-style house.
There were a lot more people at the dinner party than Rebekah expected. Isaac introduced her to so many people that her head was spinning. Everything was going well until someone noticed her engagement ring.
“My Lord, Isaac, how did you ever afford that rock on your salary?” a gentleman, who looked like he’d fallen off a bucket of fried chicken, asked.
Isaac grabbed Rebekah’s left wrist and stared at the hefty ring.
“An enormous loan,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I hope Father’s hiring.”
The Colonel Sanders look-a-like pounded him on the back enthusiastically. “I think he might be.”
Isaac steered Rebekah toward a corner. “You’re engaged?”
Rebekah’s heart fluttered, and she smiled. “Well, yeah. How did you not notice?” She lifted her left hand. “It’s pretty obvious.”
Isaac sighed. “I was a little distracted.” He reached for her hand and tried to slip the ring from her finger. She jerked her hand away and hid it behind her back.
“What are you doing?”
“You have to take it off. It’s obvious that I didn’t give you that ring. I could never afford it.”
“I’m not taking it off, Isaac.”
“She’s not taking it off, Isaac,” a low voice said behind her. Before she could turn around, she was wrapped in a strong embrace, and a hard kiss hit her in the temple. “Congratulations!” She struggled against the hard body behind her. He released her, and she spun around to glare at… Trey?
Her mouth dropped open in shock.
“What are you doing here?” Isaac asked in a harsh whisper.
“My father conned me into coming along. Usually, I try to get out of these kinds of things, but…” He shrugged. “I thought it would be fun to see how good of an actor you are, young Dr. Crandall.”
“Your father?” Rebekah questioned.
“The highly celebrated plastic surgeon of the rich and famous, Ethan Mills, MD,” Trey said. He waved at a man who could have been Trey’s twin had he been twenty-five years younger and traded his conventional haircut for Trey’s long in the front, short in the back style.
Doctor Mills wrapped a possessive arm around a lovely woman who looked earthy, eccentric, and completely bewildered in her round glasses, peasant garb, and Birkenstocks. She had a smudge of pink paint on her tan cheek, and her waist-length, curly brown hair, which was held out of her face with a green plastic headband, looked completely untamable. She fit in with the black-tie crowd almost as well as Eric would have. Rebekah instantly loved her.
“And that sweetheart with him is the highly underrated mixed media artist, Gwen Mills, also known as my mom.” Gwen must have known someone was talking about her, because her head swiveled in their direction, and her entire face lit up with delight when she noticed her son. Trey’s parents headed in their direction. Isaac tried to hide behind a drapery.
“Did you find someone to talk to?” Dr. Mills asked and extended a hand in Rebekah’s direction.
“Yeah, small world,” Trey said. “This is Rebekah, Sinners’ temporary soundboard engineer. I told you about her. Dave’s little sister.”
Dr. Mills’ expression turned serious. “How’s your brother?”
She smiled at his concern and shook his hand. “Not mobile yet, but working on it. It takes more than a broken neck to keep him down.”
“And I just found out that she’s Eric’s fiancée,” Trey added.
“Check out her new rock.”
Gwen took Rebekah’s free hand in hers and shook it up and down vigorously. “That boy needs a nice girl to look after him. Good for you!”
“And tonight she’s pretending to be Isaac’s girlfriend,” Trey added, “so mum’s the word. Wouldn’t want to make dear Isaac uncomfortable.”
Trey grabbed Isaac by the arm and pulled him out from behind the gauzy drape. Scowling, Isaac shoved him.
“Don’t worry,” Trey said. “I already told them all about you.”
Isaac turned green. “All about me?”
“Well, not that sexy little noise you make when—” Trey bit his lip. “Never mind.”
“It’s not healthy to pretend to be something you’re not,” Dr.
Mills said to Isaac. Being Trey’s father, the guy had to be incredibly open-minded. Or totally clueless.
Isaac sidled toward the drapery again.
Trey’s head turned as he tracked a gorgeous cocktail waitress distributing champagne to guests. “I just wanted to say hey. I’ll leave you two pretend lovebirds alone.” He dashed off without another word and walked directly in front of the waitress. Startled, she almost dropped her tray of drinks as she skidded to a halt. With a twirl, Trey somehow managed to catch the tray in one hand and press the disoriented woman against his length with the other. “Careful,” he said in that low voice that made knees go weak. Rebekah was immune by now, but the waitress sagged against him, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted as she gawked at him.
Rebekah rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“That son of yours…” Dr. Mills muttered under his breath.
“Oh sure, he’s my son when he’s chasing skirts,” Mrs. Mills said, “but yours when you need to impress your shallow clients. Your son, the famous electric guitarist.”
“My sons, the famous electric guitarists,” Dr. Mills corrected.
“Your sons, the notorious skirt chasers.”
“They don’t get it from me.”
Dr. Mills chuckled and kissed the tip of her nose. “I stopped chasing skirts after I found the right one.”
Rebekah smiled, hoping she and Eric still shared that kind of affection after thirty years of marriage, and looked over to see how Isaac was taking Trey’s continual indiscretions.
Isaac had vanished. The floor-to-ceiling window behind his favorite drape was opened. Had he honestly snuck outside through the open window? Rebekah sighed and rubbed her forehead to stave off a threatening headache. She really didn’t need this right now. She already wanted to go home. She had enough drama to deal with in her own life, thank you very much.
A shadow crossed Rebekah’s face. “There you are, Rebekah. So good to see you again. Where’d did Isaac run off to?” Isaac’s father asked. The man looked nothing like Isaac. Where Isaac was graceful and handsome, Dr. Crandall was shaped like a barrel and had a protruding forehead demarcated by a wild eyebrow. Yes, eyebrow.
Singular. The man had apparently never been introduced to tweezers. He sniffed his red, bulbous nose (allergies) and swiped a hand over his receding hairline. Isaac definitely took after his mother.
“I think he’s in the restroom,” Rebekah lied.
“As soon as he gets back, tell him to find me so we can make his big announcement.” Something caught his attention behind her.
He smiled, showing yellowed teeth. “Oh good, your parents are here now. I’ll go say hello.”
Her parents? Rebekah’s heart skipped a beat. She cringed and chanced a glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, there was her mother in a fuchsia evening gown two sizes too small, and her father in his tweed church suit and unfashionably wide, yellow-and-blue striped tie. What in the world were they doing here? She supposed Isaac was like a son to them. They’d want to hear his big news. She wished Isaac would have told her that he’d invited them.
“Excuse me,” she said to Trey’s parents and climbed out the window behind the drapery in search of her escaped date.
She found Isaac staring at a shrub trimmed into the shape of a rearing horse. She touched his lower back, and he started.
“Your father is looking for you,” she said. “He says it’s time to make the announcement.”
He nodded slightly and bit his trembling lower lip. Her heart went out to him. She knew what heartache felt like. She’d experienced the empty, achy chasm in her chest not too long ago, due to the very man who was feeling it now.
“Trey’s probably being a jerk to set you free, sweetheart. To give you a clean break before you get too attached.”
“I don’t want to be set free.”
She rubbed his back and leaned against his arm. “Let’s go get this over with and then we can leave.”
“What about dinner?”
“I’ll pretend to feel sick.”
“I don’t need to pretend.”
She took his elbow and tugged him toward the house, steering away from the window to enter through the open terrace doors.
“Why didn’t you tell me you invited my parents?”
Isaac’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t. They’re here?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s odd.”
When they stepped into the main gathering room, the crowd erupted into enthusiastic applause. Rebekah smiled. Everyone was certainly excited to welcome Isaac into their fold. She was happy for him. She knew how hard he worked.
Dr. Crandall lifted his glass of champagne, and a hush fell over the crowd. “I want to thank you all for coming to my son’s engagement party. It’s about time the boy got hitched.”
Rebekah spun and glared at Isaac, who looked as flabbergasted as she felt. “You told them we were engaged?” she said in harsh whisper.
He shook his head. “No, of course not.”
Rebekah spun to the crowd. “We’re not engaged. We’re just friends.”
“That’s not true!” Rebekah’s mother cried. “They are engaged.
They are.”
“What do you mean you’re not engaged?” Dr. Crandall bellowed.
“Isaac and I are just friends,” Rebekah said. “We never got back together after we broke up. In fact, I’m marrying someone else.”
“But your mother said—” Everyone turned to look at her mom, and Rebekah could tell by the wild look in her eyes that she wasn’t well. Eric had tried to tell her that, but Rebekah had gotten too wrapped up in her own happiness to get her mom the help she needed.
“I’m sorry, Mom, but I’m not marrying Isaac. I’m marrying Eric.”
There was a twittering of “who’s Eric” throughout the crowd.
Rebekah spotted Trey, and he offered a nod of encouragement. A friend in a sea of enemies.
Banshees had nothing on her mother’s shriek. “No! You have to marry Isaac. You have to! If you don’t, I’ll… I’ll…
I’ll…” She repeatedly clenched and unclenched both fists. Dad grabbed her arm to prevent her from flying across the room and attacking Rebekah.
“Mary,” he said, glancing nervously at all the upper-class citizens staring at her. “Calm down.”
“Mom, it will never work between us. Isaac’s…” She caught herself before she said gay and glanced at Isaac, who looked paler than an anemic ghost. “…not right for me.”
“You little tramp,” Mom screamed. “You’ve been shacking up with that filthy rock star, haven’t you? No wonder Isaac doesn’t want you.”
“Hey,” Trey protested, “I happen to like that filthy rock star.”
“It’s not her,” Isaac said quietly.
“Now you apologize to Isaac, Rebekah Esther Blake, and you beg him to take you back. You beg him!”
“Mother, I’m not going to marry Isaac. Get over it.”
“Stop saying that. Just stop!” She turned her tearful eyes to Isaac. “Isaac, sweetheart, she doesn’t mean it. She wants to marry you. Please take her back. Please! I know she’s wronged you, but—”
“It’s not her!” Isaac yelled. “It’s me. I’m gay. Okay?” He stared directly at Trey and said, “I’m in love with a man.”
Trey shook his head slightly and then turned his attention to the parquet floor.
Mom collapsed against Rebekah’s father in a fit of hysterical sobs.
“What?” Dr. Crandall grabbed his son by one arm. “What did you say?”
Isaac massaged his forehead with one hand. “This isn’t how I wanted to break this to you. Let’s go talk about this in private.”
Rebekah clutched the back of Isaac’s shirt, wanting to offer him comfort and at the same time keep her head above the churning waters that threatened to drown her.
“You’re gay?” Dr. Crandall bellowed. “My son is gay? Impossible!”
“Dad—” Isaac reached for his father’s hand, but he jerked away.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Will you listen?” Isaac said, and wiped a leaky eye on the back of his hand.
“It’s not true,” Mom cried, her head pressed firmly between both palms. “Not true. Not true.”
“Get out of my sight,” Dr. Crandall said to Isaac. “You’re not my son. I never want to lay eyes on you again.”
“Dad—” Isaac gripped his father’s sleeve, but he shook him off.
“You are not my son.”
The wounded sound Isaac made cut Rebekah’s heart in two. He wavered on his feet, and she wrapped her arms around him to keep him from collapsing.
Mom was still shrieking hysterically.
Dad was still trying to calm her down in his unassuming way.
Isaac’s weight was suddenly off her. “Go help you mother,” Trey said quietly. “I’ve got him. I’ll take him home.”
Isaac clung to Trey, who walked him toward the front door.
Rebekah turned to the unpleasant task of placating her mother.
“Don’t let him leave,” she was saying, one arm outstretched in Isaac’s direction. “Don’t let him leave without Rebekah.”
“Mom,” Rebekah said. She took Mom by both shoulders and gave her a harsh shake.
“Oh baby,” Mom wailed. “I’m so sorry he left. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. You’re too young to die.”
Sheesh, drama queen much? “I’m not going to die, Mom. Dad, go get the car.”
Mom’s entire body was shaking. “You are. You will. Soon. God will take you from me. I know He will.”
Rebekah knew her mother was delusional, but her words still hit Rebekah like a slap in the face. “Come on, Mom. Let’s go outside and get some fresh air.” And wait for Dad. And get away from all the staring eyes and scandalized whispers. And get her mother some really good antipsychotic drugs.
Mom followed her outside. She clung to Rebekah like a frightened little girl, with her arms around Rebekah’s waist and her head on her shoulder. Rebekah stroked Mom’s hair soothingly. “It’s going to be okay, Mom. Dad will get you some help.” The driveway was entirely full of cars now, so she led her mom toward the street at the end of the drive. When Dad pulled up in the van a few minutes later, Rebekah helped her mom inside.
“Don’t you marry that rock star guy. Don’t you marry him, Rebekah,” Mom was now muttering under her breath. “He’s not right for you. Don’t you marry him.”
Dad squeezed Mom’s hand and she started as if she hadn’t realized he was there. He leaned over her to look at Rebekah outside the vehicle. “Sweetheart, I’ll get your mother admitted, and then I’ll give you a call,” Dad said. “I think you should give her a couple days to pull herself together before you come visit.”
Rebekah bit her lip and nodded, knowing he was right. When Mom got confused like this the last time, they’d had to isolate her for a couple days so she could sort things out and get a grip on reality. And then she’d been perfectly fine. Or so it had seemed at the time.
“Do you have a way home?”
Eric. She knew she could count on him. She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Go take care of Mom.”
Her eyes stinging with unshed tears, Rebekah dug her cell phone out of her evening bag and called Eric.
“What’s up? Miss me already?” he answered. She could hear the smile in his voice.
“C-can y-you come g-get me?” Damn stuttering again.
He hesitated. “Yeah, of course. What happened?”
“Just h-hurry, okay? P-please.”
“Are you okay?”
“Y-yes.” She gulped air. He was the only thing in her life not falling apart, and she needed him. So much. “N-no.” She gulped more air. “I don’t know.”
“Where are you?”
“Still at the party. Do you know how to get here?”
“Yeah.” She knew he’d looked up the address when he’d been trying to convince her that she didn’t have to arrive at the party in Isaac’s car. “Will you tell me what’s going on?”
She told him everything that happened. “Anyway… I’m stuck here without a ride and would appreciate it if you would hurry.” She lowered her voice to a whisper and glanced up the driveway where a crowd of gawkers had gathered. “People are staring…”
“I’m on my way.”
He arrived more quickly than she thought possible. She was so happy to see him that she didn’t chastise him about his speeding. She climbed into the car, wrapped both arms around his neck, and kissed every inch of his face.
“Tomorrow I refuse to leave the house. I hope you don’t mind me monopolizing your entire birthday.”
He chuckled. “I have a birthday tomorrow?”
“And I have a whole slew of surprises for you.”
“Surprises? What kind of surprises?”
“If I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises.”
“True.” He took her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze.
“Do you need to talk about what happened tonight?”
“No,” she said. “I’m going to pretend it never happened. On Monday I’ll face reality, but for the rest of the weekend there will be nothing but me and you and all our fantasies.”
He kissed her knuckles and eased the car away from the curve.
“Well, if you insist.”
Chapter 33
The next morning, Eric opened his eyes to a bright blue box.
Resting on Rebekah’s vacated pillow, the box was tied shut with a thick white ribbon. He rose to look around the room and was disappointed to find himself alone. Even the cocktail dress that had been hanging from the ceiling fan when he’d passed out from exhaustion the night before was now gone. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed and reached for the box. It had a little card attached that said, Happy st Birthday, sweetheart. Please open immediately. Rebekah He smiled. He’d never been greeted with a birthday present on his pillow. The guys had once woken him by smashing a birthday cake into his face. It had been one rude, but rather delicious, wakeup call.
He untied the ribbon and lifted the lid, expecting to find something sexy nestled in the tissue paper. Instead, he found a baby monitor.
“A baby monitor?”
He lifted the device from the box and found a second note tied to its short antenna. I’m at your beck and call, birthday boy. Press the button, and let me know when you’re ready for me.
His heart thundered with anticipation. He pressed the button. “Rebekah?”
“I’ll be right up,” her voice came from the little speaker.
He was already up. When it came to his woman, he was always up. He covered his excitement by dropping a pillow on his lap.
A moment later the bedroom door opened and Rebekah entered carrying a tray of food. She wore a frilly little apron. Just a frilly little apron. Damn, she looked good enough to eat. If he hadn’t already been up, this would have done the trick.
“I hope you’re hungry,” she said. “I made you three different types of scrambled eggs. Also, bacon. Sausage. Biscuits. Hash browns. A fruit cup and some coffee. Juice.”
“It smells fantastic,” he murmured. He was sure it looked fantastic too, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the gentle bounce of her pert breasts as she crossed the room and set the tray on the bed beside him.
She leaned across the bed and kissed him gently on the mouth.
“Happy first birthday,” she said.
“First birthday?”
“Well, I missed twenty-seven of them, so I have a lot of birthdays to celebrate with you today.”
He’d never thought he cared that no one had ever done anything special for his birthday or that he’d never had a party as a kid.
The warmth spreading through his chest and his giddiness at her thoughtfulness told him that he really had cared. Rebekah had a way of making him glad for those hard times so that he treasured his time with her that much more. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Now eat.”
“Maybe I want you to feed me,” he said.
She climbed onto the bed beside him and picked up his fork.
“What do you want?”
He lifted his hand and stroked her taut nipple with his fingertips. “This.” He leaned forward and flicked his tongue over the aroused skin.
“You’ll get plenty of that with your other surprises,” she said.
“You should probably eat so you can keep up your strength.”
He sucked her nipple into his mouth and then drew away. “I’ll eat,” he said. “You keep those hard for me.”
Mesmerized, he watched her pluck her nipples, roll them between her thumb and forefinger, and lick her fingers to spread the wetness over her pink, pebbled flesh. He ate slowly, enjoying his private peep show too much to want it to end. Watching her play with herself still excited him like nothing else. When he was full, he crawled around the breakfast tray and tumbled her to the mattress beneath him. He suckled her nipples until she was clinging to his hair and moaning with need.
He lifted her apron and discovered that she’d completely shaved her mound. “I see dessert,” he said.
“That’s supposed to be for later.”
“I can have multiple desserts today. It’s my birthday.” He slid down her body and suckled her smooth, swollen lips, teased her clit with his tongue, and licked at her slick hole to sample her sweet juices.
“Oh, Eric,” she moaned. “I want you.”
He slipped a finger inside her and rotated it in wide circles while he sucked hard on her clit.
Her back arched. “Oh wait. I’m gonna come. Eric!”
Her body shuddered with release. She strained against his hand, her pussy gripping his finger in delightful spasms. When she went limp, he pulled his finger free and placed a tender kiss on her pretty folds, loving how exposed they looked when clean-shaven. He slid up her body to smile down at her flushed face.
“It’s your birthday,” she said breathlessly. “I’m not supposed to get the presents.”
“That was a present for both of us.” He lowered his head to kiss her jaw, her neck, her ear.
She stiffened beneath him. “Wait! I’ve been planning this for a week, and you’re messing with my agenda here.”
If he hadn’t been so curious about her plans, he would have said to hell with them, but he was. Curious. She slipped from beneath him and scampered off the bed. She collected his breakfast tray and nodded toward the connecting bathroom. “Your next surprise is in there.”
He watched the apron ties bounce against her sweet little bottom as she trotted out of the room. As soon as she was out of sight, Eric climbed out of bed and scrambled into the bathroom. On the sink, he found a red box with a large yellow bow. Happy nd Birthday, sweetheart. Please open immediately. Rebekah He lifted the lid and found a white poof inside. The kind she used in the shower. Beneath it was a little card. Wait for me in the shower.
He used the toilet and then stepped into the shower, letting the water wet his naked body. A moment later, Rebekah entered the bathroom. She was wearing a plain white T-shirt and nothing else. She stepped into the shower with him, still wearing the T-shirt.
At first, he wasn’t sure why, but as the T-shirt got wet, it became completely transparent and clung to her curves in a way that was somehow sexier than naked flesh.
He mumbled something incoherent and reached for her breasts, cupping them beneath the T-shirt, squeezing them so that her darkened nipples strained against the transparent wet cloth. Oh God.
He wanted them. Wanted her. He lowered his head and sucked one breast, shirt and all, into his mouth. “There you go giving me presents again,” she murmured in a husky voice. “Where’s the present I gave you?”
He had no idea. He lifted his head to look at her, and when confronted by that wet T-shirt again, he couldn’t even remember what she’d asked him. Apparently, she found what she was looking for in his left hand. She turned to retrieve a bottle of liquid soap from the caddy on the wall. His gaze drifted to the tattoo on her lower back and then the sweet curves of her naked ass. She turned again and began to draw the poof over his chest, leaving foamy suds on his skin as she washed him with slow, deliberate motions.
He couldn’t keep his hands off her tits.
She soaped his shoulders. His arms. His back. His belly. It felt wonderful. He felt special and loved. And really fucking horny.
Her soapy poof moved lower. She squatted to soap his hips and thighs. The head of his cock disappeared into her hot little mouth. She sucked it gently, sending waves of pleasure rippling along his shaft while she soaped his balls and soaped them and soaped them. By the time she was done washing them, he was certain there had never been a cleaner set of balls on the planet.
He was also certain that there was nothing hotter than his woman in a wet T-shirt looking at him with adoration while she sucked his cock.
Control took a backseat to need.
He bent to grab her by both arms. She let his cock pop free of her tight suction, and he hauled her to her feet. He had to fuck her.
Immediately. None of the emotional, tender lovemaking that had occurred the night before. No. This would be dirty. And rough. He was much too excited to be gentle.
He grabbed her face between both palms and kissed her hard and deep. She didn’t protest, even when he pressed her against the wall and moved his hands to squeeze her breasts.
She jerked her head to the side. “Rip it off me,” she demanded.
He was no Hulk Hogan. He couldn’t tear a T-shirt apart with his bare hands. Or could he? He noticed that she’d cut the neckband, so he could rip it off her. The sexy little vixen had planned it from the start. He grabbed the fabric and pulled in both directions.
It gave way with a satisfying rip. Her breasts tumbled free, and he gasped. He grabbed them and massaged them roughly. He needed to be inside her. Needed to fuck her.
Eric lifted her off the shower floor and propped her against the tile wall. Water coursed down his body in thick rivulets.
He surged forward seeking her slick heat, but he didn’t find it.
Gritting his teeth, he cursed and tried again. Rebekah reached between their bodies, grabbed his cock, and directed it home. He thrust into her.
Hard.
Harder.
He wanted her to feel him. For it to be impossible for her to ignore him. His excitement brought him to the brink of orgasm quickly, but he wasn’t ready to come. He wanted to keep going for hours. Unfortunately, gravity wasn’t in agreement. His strength waning, Rebekah slipped down the wall.
He grunted in protest when he could no longer find the leverage to thrust and had to pull out. She turned around and bent forward, presenting her backside. “Put it back in, Eric. I want it so bad.”
He found her easy this time, thrusting into her fast and hard from behind. She arched her back so he could hold onto her breasts while he plunged into her repeatedly.
“Oh. Oh. Oh!” Her cries echoed off the tile walls as she found release.
Eric pulled out at the last second and watched as he spurt across her lower back. She reached behind her and smeared his cum over the name tattooed on her skin. His name.
He gasped as he watched her. Could this woman possibly get any sexier? Could he love her any more than he did at that moment?
He didn’t think it was possible.
He drew her against his length. His belly against her back, the tattered remains of the T-shirt between them, he kissed her neck while he rubbed her breasts and belly. He eventually retrieved the poof from the shower floor, and they took turns washing each other.
