Nonstop (Open Skies Book 3) Page 5
There was no denying he was attracted to her, both physically and emotionally. Her shy nature had grabbed him in the first place. There was something intimate in having a relationship with a more reserved woman, assuming she eventually opened up to him.
And what the hell was he even thinking? He frequently reminded himself this entire relationship was not in her best interest. No matter how much he liked her, or how much she seemed to like him, he struggled to come up with good reasons why she should be wasting her time with a boring retired guy fourteen years her senior. It was an ongoing conundrum, a battle he lost every day because he was drawn to her like a magnet.
When they arrived at his house, he led her to the couch and sat, pulling her down next to him as usual. He didn’t bother turning on the television or even music. The only light came from the small lamp he’d left on earlier.
She was flushed as she leaned into him, her lips close to his. He liked when she lined up their faces. It told him she was open to being kissed. She wasn’t quite bold enough to initiate, but this was her way of letting him know she wanted the contact.
He cupped the back of her head and closed the distance, taking her soft lips and nibbling along the edges until she moaned softly. He loved that sound, and it encouraged him to tilt his head to one side and deepen the contact.
When he slid his tongue into her mouth, she met him stroke for stroke. A week ago, she’d been far more bashful about kissing. Timid. Now, she came to him eagerly, open, wanting what he gave her. It was a good sign, but could she take it a step further?
She flattened her palm on his chest and wiggled closer. He slid his hand up and down her back and then dared to cup her bottom, keeping his fingers on her dress. He wouldn’t reach under the hem until he was absolutely certain it wouldn’t freak her out. That might not be tonight.
Bex surprised him by kicking off her shoes and climbing onto his lap, still kissing him eagerly. She set both hands on his shoulders and stroked his neck.
He spanned her waist with his palms and slid them up and down her sides, daring to graze along the undersides of her breasts.
When she arched her chest forward on a moan, he pressed her closer. Apparently, they were taking things further tonight. He wouldn’t dream of moving to the bedroom and stripping her naked, but a deeper make-out session was in the cards.
Bex started to squirm, and he needed to get her hip away from his cock, so he lifted her off him and rose to settle her on her back stretched out along the couch. He took off his shoes and removed his tie before unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. After dropping onto his hip at her side, he set his hand on her belly and resumed kissing her.
Yeah, his erection was pressing against her hip, but maybe it was less obvious in this position. It didn’t matter. There was no way to conceal it. She was eventually going to have to deal with her effect on him.
She cupped his face and drew back just enough to meet his gaze. “I think I want more,” she whispered.
He smiled at her. “Yeah?”
She nodded.
“I’ll give you more, but we’re not having sex. Not all the way. Not tonight.”
Her bottom lip flipped out a bit on a pout, making him chuckle.
“Rebekah, let’s take this one step at a time. Trust me, okay?”
She sighed. “Okay.”
“I want to touch you, make you feel good, find out what makes you writhe. Okay?”
She squirmed again and then nodded.
He lowered his lips to hers again, knowing she would soften to him if he made that connection. And he was right. She relaxed into the couch as he resumed his exploration of her mouth.
When he slid his hand up her belly and stroked the bottom edge of her breast, she whimpered, unable to remain still. Precious.
Maybe he wasn’t the right man for her. Maybe he didn’t have enough to offer her in the long run. But damn, he didn’t have the will to stop seeing her, to stop making out with her, to deny himself the whimpering sounds that came from her sweet lips when she was aroused.
He took his time teasing her breast before finally cupping it entirely and giving it a gentle squeeze.
She arched, moaning into him.
Damn. This was the hardest thing he’d ever done. The most precious gift too. He wondered how far she’d gone with men in the past. Had anyone touched her like this? Had anyone made her come at least?
He released her lips to kiss a path down her neck and lower until he was nibbling between her breasts, Luckily, the front of her dress was a V-shape that dipped between her cleavage and gave him the space he needed to nuzzle her there.
Her hands went to his head and she pressed against him, most likely absentmindedly.
He nudged the edge of her dress aside, exposing a few inches of her black lace bra. Dragging his tongue along the lace made her gasp. Reaching under the lace to flick his tongue over her nipple made her cry out. At this rate, he was worried she would black out when he finally entered her with his cock.
Using his fingers to pull the cup of her bra down, he exposed her nipple to both the air and his gaze. Gorgeous. The small disk was puckered, the tip hard. He leaned down and sucked it into his mouth, flicking her nipple with his tongue.
Bex tried to squirm, but she was trapped between him and the back of the couch. “Jesus… Bracken… Oh, God.”
He smiled as he released her nipple with a small pop. “You like that, baby?”
Her face was flushed a deep red, and she nodded, biting into her lower lip. “Do it again.”
He gladly resumed his torment, shifting his weight so that he could reach the other breast. Thank God the material of her dress was stretchy and forgiving because he wanted to palm one breast while he suckled the other.
Her fingers slid down to his neck and she gripped him hard enough to leave marks. He didn’t care.
She arched her chest, her head tipped back, soft whimpers coming from her lips. So fucking sexy.
Taking a chance, he released her breast with his hand and slid his palm down her body and over her hip. He gripped her butt for a moment and then moved lower, his fingers on the back of her thigh.
She moaned, her hips lifting at the contact. Oh, God, yes. Jesus.
He pulled her knee up, settled it on his hip, and then smoothed his hand down along the back of her thigh until he reached the edge of her panties. Lace that probably matched her bra. When he cupped her pussy, he found her panties soaked and hot.
She cried out, her fingers digging deeper into his neck.
He dragged a finger along her folds, uncertain about continuing. He didn’t want to push her too far, but he really wanted to watch her come. Keeping her nipple in his mouth, he lifted his gaze, trying to gauge her reaction.
Her mouth was open, her eyes rolled back. She was panting. Suddenly, she let go of his neck and grabbed on to the back of the couch. Her knuckles were white from the effort, and he had to see her through this. She needed to come. He needed her to come.
Opting to slide his fingers under the edge of her panties at the crotch, he found her swollen, wet folds, gathered her arousal, and circled her clit.
She gasped, her hips bucking against him. Her body was shaking, which he hoped was a good sign. He gave her nipple a slight nip with his teeth and then released it to more fully watch her face.
She shuddered as he flicked her clit rapidly. The little nub was swollen and hot. He pinched it gently and then stroked his fingers through her slit. He wasn’t sure about entering her. He didn’t want to lose her if it freaked her out, but he did want to ensure she came. Hard.
He took a chance and eased one finger into her pussy, slowly, gently.
Jesus Christ, she was tight. His cock pressed against the zipper of his pants, pleading with him to no avail. It would have to stay behind the material tonight. No way was he going to worry her with an appearance from his erection.
She moaned as he eased in and out of her, reaching with two fingers to rub
her clit again. It was growing hard to maintain contact with her wiggling so much. He had to grip her thigh with his forearm and hold her steady against his hip as she squirmed. Her head rolled back and forth, her breathing erratic.
When her body tensed, he doubled his efforts, thrumming over her clit as fast as he could, keeping one finger inside her. She stiffened entirely and stopped breathing. Two seconds later, she shuddered violently, crying out even louder as her orgasm took over.
He continued to finger her, keeping a close eye on her face until the spasms began to subside and she drew in a deep breath. Not wanting to make her cringe when her clit became too sensitive, he eased off it and slowly pulled his finger from inside her.
She was panting, unable to draw in enough oxygen as her body relaxed into the cushions. When she released her grip on the back of the couch, her hand fell onto her belly.
He nuzzled her breasts and drew in a deep inhale, filling his senses with the smell of her sex, her arousal filling the room. He would never forget this precious moment as long as he lived.
After helping her lower her leg back next to the other one, he smoothed her dress over her thighs, righted the material at her breasts, and then brought his lips to hers.
She kissed him back, languidly, moaning softly. Finally, he broke free and smiled at her. She blinked and then her nose scrunched up. “Oh my God.”
He smiled. “That was so beautiful. Thank you for letting me witness it, baby.”
She flushed deeper, if that was possible. “Wow… You uh… We…”
He chuckled and kissed her again briefly. “Yeah. You okay?”
“Am I okay?” A slow smile spread. “Am I floating? Because that could be dangerous.”
He laughed again. “I’ve got you. You’re not actually floating. It just feels like it.” He set his hand on her waist, grounding her. She was shaking, so he reached up to the back of the couch and pulled the throw blanket down, covering the both of them as he snuggled into her.
“That was amazing,” she murmured against his neck.
“It was gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.”
“I think I get it now.”
“Get what?” he asked, confused.
“What all the hype is about. I thought orgasms were kind of mythical. Now… I feel kind of satisfied but also I want more. Now I get why people have sex. I want…you inside me.”
He held his breath for a moment, willing his cock to stand down. There were so many things to unpack from her words. “That’s normal. I guess you’re supposed to feel that way after an orgasm. It leaves you craving the whole enchilada. You’re gonna have to settle for just the orgasm tonight though. You’re too high on adrenaline to make a conscious decision to have sex. It wouldn’t be fair of me to take you right now.” Would it be fair to her for him to take her at all?
She groaned, curling into him. Shaking a bit still.
He held her close, his hand sliding up her sweet body as he remembered the more important part of what she’d said. He leaned back, cupped her face, and met her gaze. “Was that your first orgasm?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Is that strange?”
He licked his lips, shaking a bit himself from the weight of this information. She was putting so much trust in him. The responsibility was powerful. “I have no idea. You don’t masturbate? You don’t have a vibrator?”
She shook her head. “Never thought much about it. My friends talk about their vibrators, but there was no way in hell I could have gone into a store and bought one. I considered ordering one online, but what if it came when Shayla was there? I’d have been mortified. Plus, how would I know what to buy?”
Jesus. She was precious. There were no words. He could only pull her against his chest and kiss her forehead. “Rebekah… You humble me. I’ll order you six of them tomorrow. You can play around with them and figure out what you like.”
She giggled. “Don’t be silly.”
He leaned back and met her gaze. “I’m dead serious. Every woman should have a vibrator or two or six.”
She shook her head. “I could never play with, uh, myself, in the condo. Not with Shayla there. I’d be afraid I’d get caught and be mortified.”
He chuckled. “Fine. Keep them here then. You can use them when you come over. I’ll watch.”
She ducked her head against his chest in embarrassment. “No way.” She shivered.
“Fine. I’ll use them on you myself.”
She squirmed again, burrowing deeper into him. Not responding. Her embarrassment was cute and endearing. He was in so much trouble. His heart was in her hands. Did she have any idea? He was in dangerous territory, falling hard for this woman without facing the facts that niggled at him frequently. Did she seriously not mind his age and what stage he was at in his life? The guys teased him about his obsession with his age, saying that he was being ridiculous and that he wasn’t that old. Thirty-nine itself maybe didn’t seem very old, but hell, it wasn’t just the number. He had already worked an entire twenty-year career and retired. Didn’t that make him ancient in her eyes?
He held her tight, letting her relax against him. In a few minutes, she fell asleep, her soft, warm body in his arms. He would need to take her home eventually, but he shut his eyes for just a few minutes.
Chapter 7
Bex couldn’t breathe. Her head hurt from being slammed against the wall. Her eyes were wide, not by choice but because the man gripping her neck insisted she keep them open.
She was gasping for oxygen, trying to look anywhere but at the scene in front of her. The man was laughing. Taunting her. “Like what you see, bitch? That’s gonna be you next. You ready for my big cock?”
He shoved his erection against her belly as he spoke, making her cringe. This couldn’t be happening. She closed her eyes, starting to black out from either the stress or the lack of oxygen.
He slammed her head against the wall again, forcing her to open her eyes. “I said to fucking watch, bitch.”
Bex bolted upright, gasping, her hand at her neck.
She jerked her gaze around. Where was she? She was trapped, squished in between something.
Movement at her side made her jerk her gaze down to find someone next to her. She screamed and scrambled to get free, shoving at the man until she could climb out from beside him.
She jumped to her feet, backing up, bumping into the coffee table. All the while, she was rubbing her neck, gasping for air. Eyes wild. Trying to remember where she was.
“Rebekah, baby, you’re okay. It’s me. Bracken.” The man sat up slowly, hands out, palms up.
She froze, blinking at him as she remembered who he was and where she was. “Bracken?”
“Yes. Just me.” He reached out a hand. “Come here, baby.”
She shook her head and backed up, rounding the coffee table. Taking in long, deep breaths, she began to panic all over again. This was why she didn’t want to sleep over. This. Right here. She never wanted anyone to see this side of her.
“Bex…” He rarely used her nickname, but he was using it now. He didn’t move though. Not even to stand. For which she was grateful. “Talk to me. Did you have a nightmare?”
She chuckled, the noise coming out sounding evil and horrifying even to her own ears. “Sure. Yep. A nightmare.” She spun around, looking for her purse. Her shoes. She needed to get out of here. Now. She could call an Uber. Where was her purse?
“Rebekah, take another deep breath. You’re safe. You’re in my house. No one is going to hurt you.”
She spun around, glaring at him. “Too fucking late for that,” she blurted. She resumed her search in vain. Where the hell did she take off her shoes, and where did she set her purse? Her mind wasn’t working.
“Baby, slow down. What are you looking for?”
“My heels and my purse. Where are they? I need to go.”
“Your shoes are under the coffee table.” He bent down to pull them out and hold them up. “Your purse is on the counter in the
kitchen. But, baby, I don’t want you to leave like this. Talk to me. Please.”
She shook her head, crazed still. Irrational. She knew it, but she couldn’t stop it.
“Did you have a flashback from the flight?”
She shot him a glare again, knowing it wasn’t fair. This wasn’t his fault. It was her fault. She never should have let things go this far with him. She’d let herself pretend she was in a fairytale. She wasn’t. The real world was cruel and cold. She couldn’t have a piece of everyone else’s world. It wasn’t for her. She’d been foolish to pretend otherwise.
His expression was filled with confusion and concern, and she couldn’t stop herself from cackling before narrowing her gaze. “Who cares about the fucking flight? It wasn’t even me who was taken hostage. It was Christa. And she’s fine. She sleeps like a fucking baby. What about Jenny? She doesn’t sleep at all. She never gets to sleep again.” Her voice was rising. She couldn’t stop it. She was screaming now. “Why should I get to sleep when Jenny doesn’t? Fuck,” she shouted as loud as she could.
She knew she was out of control. Not herself. Not rational. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. She needed to get out of here. Now. Before she said more than she’d already blurted.
Bracken rose to his feet slowly.
She shoved her feet into her heels, hopping on one leg while she tried to put the other one on. When she couldn’t steady herself, she muttered, “fuck it,” and took the shoes back off. She didn’t need them. She could go barefoot. She spun around and rushed to the kitchen, finding her purse where he’d said, on the counter. She pulled her phone out, intent on calling an Uber. Hopefully, she had the wherewithal to place the order.
Bracken was suddenly next to her. He took the phone out of her hand. Gently. “I’ll drive you, baby.”
Her shoulders dropped. All she could do was nod. “Thank you,” she muttered.
“Let me get my shoes.” He left her standing there breathing heavily for only a minute and then he was back. When he set his hand on her shoulder, she flinched, jerking out of his reach. He drew in a breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”