Tim Hudson got his 200th win! Congratulations, Huddy! The Braves have taken some tough losses, and as of the time I wrote this post, stand at 18-12. I have to laugh, listening to the same sportscasters who were touting the Braves as the best team in baseball before the season began. They're already crying a different tune. Now, despite all sorts of positive things happening on the field, it's doom and gloom...and I can't help but think my mother missed a career where she'd have fit right in....except for the baseball part, of course. <grin>
Last week, we left Mike with his jaw hanging open on the patio at Obsidian. Let's find out what happens behind that curtain, shall we?
“Don’t get
excited,” she warned, placing her knees on the bench. “This cubicle is
spoken for. They’re reserved in ninety minute increments. We
only have a few minutes before the next reservation arrives. Come,
sit down.” Sitting back on her calves, she patted the bench. He took
the seat, looking at the bottle she’d given him for the first time. What
he really wanted to look at was the enticing cleft in the full mounds above her
corset, but he trained his gaze on the bottle. Bottled water, house brand. “Fuck me.” The harsh whisper came from
his right. A chill teased the back of his neck, coming off the large pane of
glass. It had been an unseasonably cold spring, but the rest of the small space
suddenly felt over-warm. Her perfume smelled spicy, with undertones of musk.
Mike wrenched off the bottle cap.
“Thought you needed
a cold drink. Or something.” He had no trouble seeing her wink, though he
didn’t turn his head. She looked innocent and provocative at the same
time. She removed the top of her bottle and dropped the cap on the counter,
tapping the rim of her drink against his. “Since we have no showers here. At least, not
one open to the public.”
This felt like one
of those situations when the batter might swing away—or bunt. The trick was to
be prepared for either and not commit too soon. Stretching his legs, he
lounged against the padded backrest and raised the water to his lips, relishing
the cool sensation as it flowed down his throat. Warring images flickered
in his mind. He pictured them together beneath a steamy spray. That vision
alternated with one of taking her here, against the backdrop of the
city. The water did little to ease the ache in his groin. The
sighs and moans coming from either side only served to escalate his arousal. He
drained the last drop of liquid. He’d swear he could feel her gaze move along his skin
the way he felt his own fingers crush the plastic in his hand. She was
killing him; playing with him. She worked here. She knew what happened on this
patio. The spot wasn’t designed for sudden hook-ups he realized, since the
curtained booths had to be reserved ahead of time.
He had to suppress
a grin. Nothing like a good game. “Damn, you’re such a tease.” Turning his head
so he faced her, he let his desire show in his eyes, unable to resist letting
his gaze fall to her breasts. “Are you going to show me that tat, or
what?”
The light from
neighboring skyscrapers revealed her smile. “How much of it would you like
to see?”
He recalled
the stencil's violet outlines on her shoulders, back and upper
thigh, easily picturing her in the chair at Thane's. That tat went on
forever. She’d have to be nearly nude for him to see all of it. If she'd
stayed put long enough to get ink over the entire design, which he sincerely
doubted. “Did Thane get it done? That’s a hell of a lot of ink to do
in one sitting. Nobody could handle that much pain.”
“Lightweight.” She
shook her head slowly. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Of course I got the
whole thing done, despite Thane’s whining his arm was tired. No point in
putting on the stencils, otherwise.”
She was going to
swing for the fence, he decided. “Prove it.”
****
Verity had foregone
her chance to cavort under the full moon in favor of getting the tattoo, to
hide the shameful marks from Janus' whip. Though waning, she could
still feel the moon's pull in her veins, pounding as insistently as the ocean. Cradling
either side of his face with her hands, she stroked his lips with both thumbs.
He dropped the empty bottle. His eyes were intent, challenging, but he
made no move to touch her.
Yes, he'll do.
She'd give him a taste now to be sure he hung around for more after her shift
ended.
Silently, she rose
onto her knees and moved to straddle him. She felt his hands come up to cup her
ass, pulling her toward his erection. He didn’t rush the contact, moving her
slowly. Desire spiraled inside her belly. She lowered her lips to
his, nipping his bottom lip. He made a sound deep in his throat and
tugged her the final few millimeters. Through the denim and leather separating
them, she could feel the thick column of his erection. Her pulse
started to pound when he slid his fingers into her hair, just below her ears. She
stroked one side of his face while she nipped and sucked at his mouth. The
sound he uttered when he realized she was pulling at the buttons fastening
his jeans vibrated through the corset into her chest, peaking her nipples.
“You’re going to
make me come in my pants,” he warned, pulling his head back after a
particularly sharp nip.
“I was thinking you
might come in my hand, for starters,” she whispered. The last button on his fly
gave way, letting her slip her fingers through the opening. His boxers were no
obstacle. His cock sprang free. The silky, taut skin covering his erection felt
hot against her palm. Verity traced the edge of his ear
with her tongue, mimicking the circle she drew around the head of his
cock, pausing to play in the drop of moisture on the head. To her left, a deep
voice let out a series of ragged cries. From her right came
the steady sound of flesh striking flesh.
With a
challenging look, he dropped one hand to peel down the snug cup of her corset. They
locked gazes. He traced the outline of her areola. To pay him back, she slid
her fingertip along the seam between his balls.
“I want to make you
come, too,” he whispered.
“Not here.” Not with Sage roaming around. She’d take
him home, if he waited for her to get off work. If. Though her lips brushed his ear, Vee
smiled. She’d make certain he’d wait.
****
Mike realized he could see through the roof; overhead was just another big sheet of glass. The stars seemed to spin, making him
think of the famous painting by Van Gogh, but all he’d had to drink was a shot
and two beers. Her hands felt soft, but her strokes were sure. The little witch
matched her rhythm to the slamming percussion made by the unseen
couple to his left. Raising his hand to her waist, he pulled her closer.
She raised her chin, letting her head fall back. Her grip tightened when he
nipped at the peak he’d bared, much the way she’d done his lower lip. He
heard her hiss. The sound had him thrusting his hips in equal parts
frustration and pleasure, giving in to the silky sensation of her palm and
fingers around his cock, slipping easily over his heated skin. He wanted to
last longer, but damn, the excited cries and moans seemed to come from
everywhere now, trapped by the glass and not quite dampened by the curtains.
Deep groans underscored feminine cries. Some cursed. Some sobbed. His cock felt
like a tuning fork. Every note made him vibrate, every cry drove him closer.
Those spinning stars coalesced at the base of his spine.
She pulled back and
stared into his eyes, a pleasure he gave into completely. In the dark, those pools
of lavender were his focus. The slide of her hand along his shaft felt sweet,
yet the stroke wasn’t the penetration he craved. He wanted to roll her to
her back on the bench, strip off her pants and bury his length as far inside
her as he could go, but knowledge their time together was slipping away kept
him captive far more than her weight.
He raked his
thumbnail across her nipple, rewarded by the moan that elicited. Her perfume
wrapped him like a soft blanket. He pumped harder in her fist.
She pulled away
from him, just as he was about to erupt. Sliding to her knees, she closed her
lips over the head of his cock. The sudden heat from her mouth burned away his
control. Her tongue circled the head and then settled into a teasing
rhythm, caressing the sensitive place just below the rim. Her fist continued to
stroke him furiously.
The stars exploded.
She sucked him deeper into her mouth. He thought one nail traced the tight seam
between his balls. With her other hand, she continued to milk him, adding
layers to his climax. He bit his lip hard, trying not to call out her name
to protect her, but a harsh whisper escaped him anyway. “Verity. Oh, my God,
Vee.”
He needed to kiss
her, to show her how badly he still wanted her. Though he was drained,
his ache for her began anew, pounding in his groin as though he was still hard.
He helped her stand, pulling on her hands until she sat lightly astride him and
he finally captured her mouth, reveling in the slightly salty taste of himself
on her tongue, something he’d never cared to do before. Her bare
belly pressed his half-erect cock. He thought she made a greedy sound when she
felt his shaft move between them.
Reluctantly, he let
her pull away, his gaze roaming over her full breasts. Somehow, he’d pulled
down the other cup. She made no move to cover them, but all that hair concealed
more than he wanted.
“I want more,” he
whispered stubbornly. “I want all of you, Vee.”
“Says the man who
swore he only wanted to see something he forgot all about seeing.” She faked a pout
and rolled her eyes.
“I still want to see
it. I want to trace it with my tongue. And I want to do it
somewhere you can scream.”
She pushed off his
lap and rearranged her top, making him regret he could no longer see those gorgeous
globes and tight nipples. “I want you,” he repeated. “This
isn’t enough.” Not nearly enough.
“I’ve got a shift
to finish and a bar to clean up. It’ll be daylight before I get out
of here. Surely you work.”
His mind raced
while he tucked himself back into his pants. “Tell me when I can see
you again,” he demanded, “or I’m sitting at that bar until you get off so I can
follow you wherever you’re going.”
He stood and tucked
in his shirt, but couldn’t resist reaching for her again. She turned away from
him and bent over, rearranging the dislodged cushions.
He slipped one hand
around her, reaching to cup her breast, tugging her against him. Moving the thick
length of hair aside, he placed a kiss on the curve of her neck. He
couldn’t identify the perfume she wore, but she smelled delicious. “Tell
me you’ll meet me, Vee. Anywhere you say, damn the time. I don’t
have to be anywhere until three tomorrow afternoon… I mean this
afternoon.” He thumbed her nipple through the leather with one hand,
slipping his other slipped down the front of the tight garment. She
straightened and pressed back against him.
He traced her navel
and whispered, “I want to run my tongue around this…”
Moving lower, he
found the short zipper on her pants. One short tug and he could slide his hand
inside her buttery pants, encountering silken panties he ruthlessly pushed
down. He felt soft curls and brushed his fingers across them. “I
want to rub my face across these…”
Still searching, he
found her folds. He brushed her nub,
reveling in her sharp intake of breath before dipping inside her. “I
want to roll this around with my tongue, lick it and suck it until you come in
my mouth. God, you’re so wet.”
“Stop,” she moaned,
dropping her head against his chest. “We’ve got to set this to
rights and get out of here. It’s reserved, damn you.”
He increased the
sped of his stroke on the hard nub. “Say you’ll meet me so I can
finish this.”
“I’ll meet you.”
He stopped
instantly, enjoying the way she sagged against him and the ragged rhythm of her
breathing. He gave her nipple a final tweak before placing the finger he’d
pleasured her with in his mouth. “Mmm, I knew you’d taste wickedly good.”
“Where’s your
bottle?” she wondered aloud, glancing around.
On either side of
them, he heard raised voices, other people leaving their dark love
nests. He spied something gleaming against the dark floor and bent
to pick it up. Not the bottle, but the thing she’d worn in her hair
earlier. He held it out, but snatched it away when she grabbed for
it. “I’m holding it hostage.” He smiled.
“Mike, I swear,
you’re trouble on two legs.”
“You can have it back
when you meet me,” he vowed. Spying the crushed bottle, he stooped
to pick it up, and then looked around the curtained cubicle. “Is
this back the way it should be now?”
She used one hand
to sweep the plastic bottle tops into the other and gave the place a final
look. “I guess so. I’ve never been in one before. Jeremy
will check on it when we leave. Let’s get out of here before my—”
She pulled aside
the heavy curtain and they stepped out, right into a very pretty
brunette. It only took a glance to see the resemblance. In spite of
the difference in hair color, they had to be sisters.
“Vee, what in the
world are you doing out here?” the brunette demanded. She had green eyes, but their shape, in fact, every detail of her face
was identical to Verity’s. Mike blinked. Twins?
To be continued 5/13.
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