Blurred (Connections, #3.5)(25)

When I let up, she sat back on her heels and I could see the evidence of my pleasure glistening on her lips. I was panting, spent, and so f*cked up, but all I knew was I wanted more.

During the ride she squeezes my waist tight when I whip around a corner. Her address turns out to be a nicely kept Spanish style apartment complex. She moves quickly to dismount as soon as I’ve turned off the engine but I reach my hand back. “From the left side, always from the left,” I say. She does as I ask and once her heels touch the sidewalk she whips her helmet from her head and her long red hair tumbles down her shoulders. Her cheeks are red from the cool air, but the smile on her face says what I know she clearly won’t—that she enjoyed herself.

“I’ll be right back,” she says and hands me the helmet.

I admire her ass as she enters the iron gate and disappears in the courtyard. Sitting alone, I allow myself to get lost in the memory of our night together.

“Are you okay?” she asks, having returned with a bag in hand.

I look up into those emerald green eyes. “Never better. Now hop on so I can get you to work on time.”

This time she grips my waist without hesitation—and as I steer out onto the road I feel a sense of happiness I haven’t felt in a long time.

When I pull over she hops off and hands me the helmet. “Thanks for the ride.”

She looks at her wrist again and I have to ask. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“What?” she asks.

“Looking at your arm.”

“Oh, I smashed my watch on a serving tray last week and can’t get used to not having it there.” She shrugs. “Habit, I guess.”

I nod in understanding.

“See you around.” She waves and heads toward the sliding doors.

“Bye, S’belle. See you around.” The whole situation is amusing to me because she obviously doesn’t know I’ll be attending the affair as well.

She turns and walks backward to continue the conversation. “My name is Bell.”

I grin and say nothing, thinking, “Sure thing, Red.”

Shaking her head, she turns her back to me. I glance at my watch. I have an hour to get back here so I pull into the street and race to my fleabag hotel to get changed for work. In the shower I turn the water on full blast. Steam from the hot water fogs the mirror by the time I’m done. I wipe it a few times and push my hair back with both hands. Alone in the bathroom, staring at myself, I see a reflection from a different time.

The curves of her beautiful breasts, a face full of promises, wild hair, me slamming into her from behind as she leaned over the counter and I looked in the mirror. Moans of passion that I wasn’t sure were hers or mine. My body shaking . . . hers quivering. I had been drunk, sure, but I felt completely sober when my hands roamed her body. Her * was so sweet I couldn’t get enough. Without any inhibitions, I told her all of my deepest sexual desires. She only smiled in response as I stood and brought her mouth to mine. I felt my dick throb.

With my body pressed up against hers, heat was everywhere, surrounding us. She pulled back and looked at me with clear eyes. “You’re not from LA, are you?” she asked.

“What makes you say that?”

“You just seem different.”

“Born and raised in Laguna.”

“On the beach. Was it fun?”

I ran my hands through my hair and quirked a smile. It wasn’t the time for conversation. My arms caged her body and my throbbing cock rubbed against her thigh.

Her eyes roved up and down my body and she licked her lips before dropping her gaze. “I think I really like surfers.”

“Oh yeah, what makes you say that?”

She pushed the hair from my eyes before dropping her stare again. “Tan, sun-bleached hair, hot, and sexy.”

I moved closer and whispered in her ear. “This hot and sexy guy is done talking now. I want to f*ck you.”

She traced her tongue along my lips and moaned. Breathing heavily she purred, “Please.”

I urged her closer. She was so wet I slid inside her with unabashed ease. She closed her eyes, but I had a strange need to see her while I f*cked her. I lifted her chin. “Look at me.”

We stared into the depths of each other’s eyes as I slowly moved in and back out so I could feel the thrill again. Each time I thrust in only felt better than the last. I could see in her eyes how much she was enjoying it and I was f*cking loving it, too. Each plunge brought me closer to the brink. I tried to control myself but she was doing crazy things to me. When I could see she was close I said, “Come with me.”

She dug her nails into my back and wrapped her legs tighter around my waist. The sensation of filling her so deeply was unreal. She called out my name over and over and through gritted teeth I did the same. Once my orgasm subsided, I looked at myself in the mirror and was struck by a huge wave of guilt. Despite it, I closed my lids and felt my cock swell. It wasn’t anywhere near done and neither was I.

“Hey, surfer boy.” She pulled my attention back toward her. “Can we do that again?”

“I plan to.” I pulled away and circled her like she was my prey. “Put your heels back on and show me again how you walked on the beach in the Riviera.”

Not sure what came over me, I wanted her do as I ordered—it made my heart beat faster and adrenaline flooded me. When she moved passed me, I pulled her flush to my chest. I traced my fingers along the silky fabric covering her clit and sucked on one of her nipples. Her moans of pleasure made my dick ache but also made me feel like I was going to be able to do this all night long. I turned her around. “Watch us,” I told her, as I spread her legs and plunged into her from behind as we both looked on in the mirror.