The Perfect Play

He kissed her first, wanted to taste her mouth, lick her lips, slide his tongue in her mouth and suck on her tongue. It made his cock come to life again, even though she’d taken everything he had.

He kissed her neck, and she shuddered. He knew her neck was sensitive, and he gave it extra attention, dragging his tongue over the side of her throat before sliding down between her breasts, then licking her nipples, sucking each hard berry until she arched her back to feed them to him. He cupped her breasts in his hands and rolled the buds between his teeth, tugged on them, heard her ragged cry and drank it in because it made his dick hard.

He swept his hands over her belly, kissed it, then shouldered her legs apart, moved his hands down her sweet legs and lifted them, kissing her feet.

“Those are some rockin’-hot shoes, Miss Lincoln.”

She laughed. “I might wear them every day if I get this kind of reaction.”

“Feel free to dig those spikes into my back if you like what I do to you.”

She leveled her pretty brown eyes on him and swallowed when he draped her legs over his shoulders. He moved between her legs, inhaling the scent of her sex. She was so wet, so sweet and enticing, it made him go rock hard.

He swept his tongue over her * lips. She whimpered and laid her hand over his head as he licked the length of her, put his mouth on her clit and sucked.

“Oh, damn, Mick. Yes. Lick me right there.”

She made his dick pound when she talked to him, when she told him what she liked, when she lifted her ass and rocked her * against his face. He liked her turned on and out of control like she was now, moaning and talking to him, her * so wet his tongue slid easily all over her. And when he sucked on her clit and slid two fingers inside her, she lifted her butt off the chair and came, hard, crying out and yanking on his hair, bucking against his face like she was in the rodeo and he was the bronco she rode to the grand prize.

He didn’t even wait for her to come down off the waves of her orgasm. He grabbed a condom, sheathed his cock, and shoved inside her still-spasming * with one hard thrust. She let out a loud moan, scored his arms with her nails, and rocked against him.

“Yes!” she cried. “Fuck me.”

He drove into her, pulling her hips down so he could piston his cock deep inside her. He wanted Tara to come again. He dropped on top of her, her breasts against his chest, so he could roll against her clit.

“Mick, that’s so good.” She grabbed his head and kissed him, hard, her teeth mashing to his, her tongue sliding against his. She whimpered, her eyes filled with unshed tears. This is how he wanted her, because this is what he felt, his heart mixing with his body as he rode this incredible wave with this amazing woman.

He held back, his balls tightening as her * squeezed him in a tight vise. Her eyes widened.

“I’m going to come, Mick. Come with me. Come in me.”

He held tight to her as the ragged edges of control tore away. “I’m coming with you. Give it to me.”

She held his gaze as she went out of control and he let go, shouting out as his orgasm roared through him. He dug his fingers into her flesh, pulled her tight against him, and buried his face in her neck, licking her as she screamed her orgasm this time, rocking against him and crying out his name.

It took a while for the calm after the raging storm, as he held her and stroked her and felt her wild heartbeat pulse against his chest.

He picked her up and took them both into the shower, Tara laughing that it would take an hour to wash all the makeup off, then both of them laughing as one of her false eyelashes ended up on her cheek. Once they cleaned up, they dried off and climbed into bed. Tara was asleep in minutes, her head on Mick’s shoulder.

He held her like that for a while, content and just a little bit worried about what all this meant.

And hell, wasn’t it the woman who was supposed to be all concerned about what the whole “relationship” thing meant, anyway? They had fun together. God knew the sex together was great. Maybe he should just stop thinking about it and enjoy the ride. It was too soon to start thinking about the important things, anyway.





EIGHT


TARA OF ALL PEOPLE KNEW BETTER THAN TO START thinking of her and Mick as having a relationship. They were going out, sure. And they were having a good time together. But as sure as hell as she started thinking something good was going to happen between them, it would all end.

Everything good ended. She had plenty of experience with that.

Fortunately, after their whirlwind trip to Los Angeles, Mick had to drop her off and work out with his trainer, then attend a team meeting, and she had to dive back into her own work for the next few days. She’d needed some distance anyway after being with him. He overwhelmed her a little bit, and not in a bad way, but with everything good. She needed time to think, to rehash the night in her mind to make sure it hadn’t all been a dream.

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