Текст книги "How to Fall"
Автор книги: Rebecca Brooks
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
But they weren’t a couple, and she wasn’t asleep.
She tried to move slowly so as not to rustle their clothes or make any sucking noises from her saliva. The constraint made it all the more intoxicating as she had to hold them both back from full-on abandon, building him up as slowly as she could until she could feel his balls straining, pushing up in her palm, begging for the warm, enveloping touch of her tongue that would make all the pressure release.
But she wouldn’t let him, not yet. She’d never enjoyed this so much and she wanted to savor her triumph. Up and down she worked her mouth, slippery and wet. He rested his hand on her head, playing with her hair, as she got into a slow, sensuous rhythm with her mouth. Danny would never have done that, thinking it degrading even if he wasn’t pushing her head down. But the feel of Blake reaching to touch her made her want him even more, taking him as deep as she could while the wetness built again between her legs.
As his fingers dug in her hair, she knew he didn’t have much time before he was done for. She wrapped her fist around the base of his shaft while her mouth moved over every inch of him, her tongue swirling over his swollen head each time she went up and back down. He held her tighter, pulling hard as she felt his thighs clench. He was close, he was so close, and she wanted to give it to him…
Outwardly he hardly moved, but his cock pressed against the back of her throat and under the blanket his hips bucked—once, twice, pushing in as she sucked him deep. When he pressed gently onto the back of her head, she knew he was telling her that he was about to come, so she could decide what she wanted to do. And yes, she swallowed. And no, she didn’t care if that meant anything.
Finally he lifted her, still careful not to make any noise. The smell, the taste, the heat of him had filled her, thrilled her, and the sight of his satisfied face as he lay back in the seat smiling and totally spent was the icing on the cake. He squeezed her hand and she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Damn,” he whispered, brushing the hair from her face and flexing his hand from where he’d been clutching the edge of the seat to keep himself from moving.
“This is when I ask if that was okay for you,” she whispered.
His smile was a delight.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” he admitted.
“It doesn’t have to be the last time,” she reminded him as she zipped up her shorts—even as she’d already learned that there could be no planning with Blake, not even for a few days.
Now would be the time when, in some perfect dream she might have once had, he would turn and announce that he needed her, he loved her, and he was never letting her go.
But her dreams had never included blowjobs on buses, or Brazil, or men she barely knew. And she was actually comforted that he didn’t say a word. It was a relief not to have to worry about the baggage and expectations that came when two people wondered how long they were going to last. If Blake was sex and Danny was love, there was no question she’d take Blake any day she could have him.
Blake buttoned his shorts and draped the blanket over them. This time, when she leaned against him, she had no trouble falling asleep to the rolling motion of the bus and the steady rise and fall of his breathing as he nodded off, too. Rio was coming at them closer and closer each silent minute that passed.
Julia had no idea what to expect, but she knew that whatever happened wasn’t going to be anything like her long, lonely days in São Paulo, or her darker nights at home.
Chapter Eleven
Rio
Thursday
Julia had dog-eared the page in her guidebook for budget lodgings in Rio, but Blake told her to put the book away. They were approached by a throng of drivers crowding around the bus station, and he went with the one who grabbed their bags first and ushered them toward his cab.
“Hotel Copacabana,” he instructed, and did his best to haggle the rate down before they set off into the busy morning.
“Copacabana?” Julia said with eyes wide as she flipped through the guidebook. “Blake, I don’t know quite how to say this but I—”
The car turned quickly and in the back seat Blake jostled against her. He took the opportunity to reach for the book and close it.
“Nonsense, this is on me.”
He tried to use his most authoritative voice, the one he’d perfected on set for when he needed everyone to shut up and do their jobs so that he could do his. But naturally she wasn’t falling for it.
“You can’t do that,” she said, striking back with what must have been her equivalent listen here tone, the one that doubtless made countless teenagers spit out their gum, crack open their textbooks, and sit cowering until she told them what to do.
“I can, I will, and I am.”
“Your accent gets stronger when you argue,” she laughed, and he’d have said she won the tiff by completely disarming him except for the fact that they were still heading for the stretch of hotels along the famous crescent-shaped beach and there was no way he was going to let her pay.
“Making fun of the opponent won’t earn you any points,” he said, and he tried to scowl but it was hard to look unhappy when she was so damn cute in the morning, her hair disheveled from the ride even though she’d tried to smooth it out, pillow creases still on her cheek.
“I wasn’t making fun!” she exclaimed, and then leaned over and whispered in his ear even though the driver hardly spoke any English and probably couldn’t hear them, “It’s cute.”
“The opponent will remember this when we’re in our hotel room overlooking the ocean.” He winked.
“I’m serious, Blake,” she said, her tone changing once again. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking, I’m offering. And I’ve never stayed here, but what better excuse to stay in a nice hotel with a beautiful view on a world-famous beach than the two nights I have with you. Besides, after that hostel and a night on the bus, a comfortable bed sounds to die for.”
Julia grinned. “Okay, I’ll grant you that. But I want to go on the record that I didn’t ask for the royal treatment and have no expectations for anything you have to do for me. A tiny hostel somewhere is totally fine.”
Blake leaned over so that his hand was on hers and his breath in her ear. “There is one expectation you can have for something I’m going to do to you, but it’s definitely something I very much want.” He bit her ear gently and then slid away, looking out the window like he hadn’t said a thing. When he snuck a glance back, she was blushing furiously, a devilish light in her eyes. God he couldn’t wait to be in that hotel room, lying her back on the bed, spreading her legs…
He owed Jamie big time. The whole time he’d sat in the bus station, bags packed, waiting for his ride to Argentina, he hadn’t been able to get his friend’s words out of his mind. She said she wasn’t sure about me from the beginning…but she took the risk anyway. Jamie had been trying to tell him something. Something important.
Chris hadn’t been wearing a giant sign that read Your Future Is Here and neither had Jamie. But they didn’t go running just because there were no guarantees.
It wasn’t that Blake was looking for a relationship—far from it. He was just tired of things inevitably ending. A single night with someone forgetful couldn’t be said to end when it had hardly even begun. A night and then another day and then the thought of more nights, more days to come… Well, that was a different story.
But like Jamie had said, The only thing you can do is try. He knew he had two days left. He wasn’t going to let himself miss out because of what might happen down the road.
He was done worrying, done denying himself the things he eyed from afar but thought he shouldn’t have. Which was why he knew exactly what hotel he wanted to stay in. Blake had been traveling simply, staying at clean but basic lodgings like the hostel in Foz do Iguaçu. He’d been raised by a single mother in a small town outside Melbourne. One of the things he was most proud of was being able to buy her a house and take care of her so she no longer had to work. That was the only part that felt good about the money the show had brought in.
Kelley was the one who’d been thrilled with their newfound fame and fortune, relishing the opportunity to buy clothes without considering the price tags, eating out all the time because they could. Moving in the elite circles of actors and TV personas, Blake had started to feel like the world around him was less real, less solid than he’d once supposed. Kelley’s about-faced change proved that he didn’t want his whole life to be like that.
But it was more than the desire to stay grounded that made his stomach constrict when he looked at the checks from the broadcasting company growing his bank account even while he was abroad. While he was able to take off from work to travel the world before his next season started, he didn’t like knowing that he was only able to do it because of the success of The Everlastings. In other words, because of the appeal of Kelley and Liam together onscreen.
If he didn’t spend the money, he could pretend it wasn’t there. He could avoid thinking about why he was off traveling in the first place, or how his life had changed, or whether he deserved his success at all.
With Julia, though, he didn’t want to think. He knew the first step to showing her a wickedly good time would be a room with an ocean view. He’d walked by the hotels on the beach the last time he was in Rio but hadn’t gone in. Now he had a second chance. A chance to enjoy what he had.
They pulled up in front of a tastefully ornate building bordered by tall palm trees rustling in the ocean breeze. Blake was glad to see Julia’s eyes widen, taking everything in. The hotel was part of a strip along the beach, amidst the bustle of the street, the crash of the waves, the colors and sounds of the busy morning getting underway. It was honeymoon suites and “May I take your bags, sir?” on one side of the street, and on the other, bathing suits, white sand, beach umbrellas, and a blue so bright and endless it stretched into sky.
He got them a room on the top floor, with broad windows that looked over the whole stretch of land. They could see the street below and then the crescent of sand that made up Copacabana Beach. To the right, where the tip of one crescent swept back into another curve, was Ipanema, and more beaches extending farther beyond. To the left they could just make out the distinct hump of the famous Sugar Loaf Mountain jutting straight out of the sea.
That was Rio, a city of contrasts. Mountains, oceans, skyscrapers, sprawling slums known as favelas, everything jammed together and not enough lifetimes to ever experience it all. He was torn between wanting to rush out and do everything and wanting to stay in and do everything to Julia before he lost the chance.
She solved his problem of what to do with one word: breakfast.
Blake tossed her the room service menu. She flopped down on the bed, kicking off her sandals, and rolled over onto her stomach. He rolled on top of her to see the menu over her shoulder and they laughed while the sun streamed through the windows, the city spread out below.
They ordered fresh guava juice, coffee, and tomato omelets that came with fruit and a basket of muffins on the side. They sat out on the balcony at a table set for two and dove in, famished from the long bus ride. Julia stretched her legs and rested her feet on the railing, looking out at the water and wiggling her toes.
“This is perfect,” she sighed as she speared another piece of star fruit.
“See? I told you. I walked by here when I was in Rio before and thought to myself, Damn. If only I could stay in that hotel eating breakfast with a beautiful woman.”
“I’m so sorry your wish couldn’t come true.” Julia laughed, and he threw a napkin at her.
“Yeah, it’s too bad I got stuck with a Julia instead,” he teased, and she picked up the napkin and tossed it back. “More coffee?”
She held out her mug. “You’re going to spoil me, treating me like this,” she commented, gesturing at the view before them.
He lowered the coffee pot back on the table and looked at her intently. “Oh no,” he said in his most serious voice. “I fully intend to ruin you.”
“Be careful what you wish for. You’re already well on your way.” Julia smiled and sunk down in her chair, basking in the sun. She was all legs in those shorts, and Blake reminded himself that he was supposed to be eating his breakfast, not just looking at her.
But Jamie’s talk had been a wake-up call. Blake didn’t want to waste this time. Sure, as soon as he’d implied he wasn’t coming, he’d wanted her to protest—to let down her guard and admit that it mattered whether he came to Rio or not. But even though she hadn’t, he wasn’t going to force himself away. He was here, and she was here, and nothing else was worth thinking about.
Finally, when they were so full they couldn’t eat another bite, Julia made her way inside and Blake heard the sound of the shower coming on as he picked at the remaining crumbs on his plate. He stood and leaned against the railing, straining to take in the full view of the mountains and the endless beach.
He’d spent only four days here before moving on, and when he left, all he’d been able to think of was how much he wanted to return. But the open road had been calling him, and the falls, and Argentina, and he’d kept pressing on. That was when he’d had his itinerary laid out for himself, dividing up his months of travel to make sure he hit every spot on his list.
Now, though, that list was totally out the window. And instead of fearing that he might be missing out on something, thinking he should have been exploring a new city rather than back in one he’d already seen, he wondered if it might not be so important to keep moving on.
Blake yawned and headed back inside. The hotel room was spacious, with a king-sized bed in the middle, a dark sofa plush with pillows, and a long polished console with drawers, a minibar, and a flat-screen TV. He sat down on the bed and picked up the remote. It had been ages since he’d watched any television. He was familiar with the telenovelas that were popular in Brazil—loud, dramatic soap operas that played in every house and restaurant. He had no idea what was going on in any of them, except there was always a lot of sobbing. The Everlastings was often called a soap opera, but Blake knew his show didn’t have anything on the real thing. There was drama, yes, but not even he could have come up with the plotline where a woman’s maid came back from the dead to steal her husband. Or at least that’s what Blake thought had happened, based on the snippets he’d seen.
But he didn’t really want to know what was going on in the television world. Before he brought the mute screen to life, he had a better idea. Closing the thin curtains, he stripped off his T-shirt and cargo shorts and dropped them to the floor.
He opened the bathroom door to a waft of steam and her long, lean figure blurry behind the dimpled glass of the shower stall door. She was facing the water, standing under it as it poured over her. He stood in the doorway, transfixed, until she called out, “You planning on showering or just watching?”
Her skin was warm and soft from the water, and he was torn between how good it felt to touch her and how good it was to let the hot water pour over him. They spent far too long enjoying the luxury, Julia rubbing soap over his back, him slipping a hand between her legs as she passed the shampoo. But it was when she rested her hands on his shoulders, her forearms on his chest, and kissed him with such longing that he felt his cock press against her, desire come to life in the enveloping steam.
Julia went to drop to her knees but Blake had only one thing on his mind. He shut the water off and lifted her by her shoulders. She was pouting like he was spoiling the fun, but he didn’t even bother getting a towel to dry them off. He lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist and his cock pressed up between them as he carried her laughing to the bed. He leaned her down and pulled the covers back.
Julia lying on the bed, dark hair spread over the pristine white sheets. Julia’s molten eyes flashing as he kissed her from her forehead to her bellybutton and paused to look up, drinking in that smoldering look as he trailed his lips the rest of the way down. Julia arching her back, fingers gripping the sheets as he lowered his lips to kiss her thighs and then brought his tongue flat and firm across the small, eager nub of her clit.
He had been waiting all night to be alone with her like this, to lay her down and taste her, and she was just as firm and tight and wet and open and gasping and eager as he’d been imagining in his mind nonstop since she brought him all the pleasure in the world by going down on him. She was propped up by the pillows and he lay on his stomach, his feet hanging off the edge of the bed, his cock straining into the mattress as he turned to steel while she opened herself to his tongue. She was so sweet, so deliciously female, and so responsive that he had no trouble following what she liked. It felt like they fit together exactly, like he knew how to flick his tongue where she wanted, fast strokes and then deeper lashes that made her legs tremble as they clenched around his face.
He reached a hand up to stroke her delicate curls and she arched her back appreciatively. His fingers trailed over her hips, her stomach, her breasts, unable to get enough of her body as he kept furiously lapping at her. He tweaked her nipples, pulling hard and then harder as she whimpered and grabbed his hair, drawing him into her. He let himself be pushed as she bucked her hips against his mouth and coated his chin. There was no getting enough of how she tasted, how she moved, how she moaned, how she made everything feel so alive. He pressed his hips into the mattress, rubbing his cock against the sheets as the pleasure built for him alongside the decibel of her moans. Here in the hotel there was no need to be quiet anymore, and he wanted her to let it all out, panting, gasping, clawing at his hair.
She was so wet; he brought his hand from her breast and slid his middle finger inside her as he licked. Immediately her legs widened and she let out a cry followed by a series of whimpers as he worked his hand in rhythm with his tongue.
He slid in another finger, fucking her with his first two fingers while he sucked furiously on her swollen clit. He was sure that he’d enjoyed doing this before, but it was hard to imagine that he had ever experienced anything this good or gotten this much pleasure out of making someone completely fall apart in his hands. When Julia came, there was no question. Her legs clenched, her back arched, and she cried out loud enough to wake everyone on the hall if he gave a shit about them.
When she came down from her high, she raised her head to look at him, beautiful, flushed, wet hair disheveled, nipples bright and pink and hard. Positively fucking radiant. He slid his fingers out slowly, knowing how good his dick was going to feel inside. He kissed her clit gently and she twitched under him. He was massively, desperately hard, and he trailed his cock over her body as he brought himself to her lips, wiping his chin with his palm to take off some of her slickness before he kissed her.
Julia’s hand around his cock while they kissed was heaven. Her legs intertwined with his as they rolled together in the bed, finally able to spread out and lie down together after their furtive, acrobatic endeavors. Who knew it could feel this exciting to be in a bed instead of somewhere wild? He kept kissing her, running his fingers through her hair, feeling her fingernails along his shoulder blades, tracing the ridges of his back.
She was still lying on her back when he threw one leg over her to straddle her, sitting up over her hips, his cock at full attention. He didn’t try to disguise the hunger in his eyes.
“I think I need a minute to recover,” she panted, even as she reached to stroke his cock and show she wasn’t completely done.
“Take all the time you need.” He smiled at her, watching her slowly run her hand along his shaft. Her slender fingers cupped his balls and his head rolled back, savoring the touch.
“I’ll have to think of some way to keep you entertained until I’m ready for you,” she murmured, and he looked down to meet her eye. Slowly, still maintaining eye contact, she licked her lips and then, as if that wasn’t temptation enough, opened her mouth to touch her fingers to her tongue, beckoning him to her mouth. He sidled up, his legs on either side of her as she guided his hips forward, her arms extended up and running over his stomach, his ass, his hips, before grabbing his cock and bringing it to her mouth.
He moved the pillows behind her to prop up her head and then reached for the headboard to hold himself when his legs threatened to give way. She worked both hands over him, her tongue swirling over the head, and then she grabbed his hips and thrust him forward into her mouth, taking his full length all the way back to her throat. She ran her hands over his balls while she sucked and slowly he began moving his hips, working his cock in and out of her mouth, plunging deeper when it seemed she wanted it. Needed it. Had been thinking about it as much as he had.
He thought about her wetness, the smell of her still on his fingers, in his nose, the taste still on his tongue, the heady sweet scent driving him wild. Her mouth, open and wanting. Her hands were firm around his dick as she sucked him so deep he groaned, leaning against the headboard to press his hips in, feeling the hot, soft pressure of the flat of her tongue as she licked him up and down.
Christ, he was going to explode into that beautiful mouth if she kept doing that. He pulled his dick out, her mouth still open, and rubbed the wet tip over her glistening lips hungry for him.
“Better slow down there,” he murmured as her lips kept trying to find him again. Her hunger made him ravenous. He hovered above her, trying to calm himself down enough to keep going, while she snaked a hand between her legs. When she brought her hand back, she lifted it to his lips for him to lick.
“I’m ready,” she whispered, innocent and devilish and throaty from her swollen lips. As if he had any doubt about what she wanted. He slid on a condom.
“Are you sure?” he asked, rubbing his tip over her wetness until he thought he might scream from anticipation. She was breathing heavily and didn’t answer. Instead, she used her hand to guide him in.
The feel of her was nothing less than a dream. She was more than ready and he built up quickly, feeling the pleasure of every thrust as he moved deep inside her body. He was panting, groaning into her ear, saying her name over and over again as she used her hands to press his hips into her harder, her legs lifting on either side of him so he could make his way deeper in.
It wasn’t long before he had to slow down again, not wanting to climax and end it so soon. That was when they rolled over so she was on top, gasping when he pinched her nipples in his hands.
She rode him fast, skin slapping against skin, sweat pooling between their bodies. And then she rode him slow, leaning forward so her nipples grazed his chest, grinding her pelvis against him. She took her pleasure however she wanted until he was out of his mind with it. He’d never fucked anyone like this. No, he’d never been fucked like this. She was riding him so hard, moving up and down over the full length of his cock, that he didn’t stand a chance. He came with a yell, holding onto her hips for dear life, bucking up to thrust deeper inside her as she drilled herself down onto him, raised her hips, and fucked him until he was spent.
When he subsided with a groan, she tilted her head back and took every ounce of pleasure that was hers, sliding over his still hard cock as she pressed into him. He could feel her orgasm spread in waves until she collapsed on top of him. They lay there together, not moving, as the sun worked its way through the thin closed curtains, lighting their bodies panting and sweaty across the giant white bed.
Forget his plans. Blake couldn’t believe he’d been about to give this all up to be safe and alone.
