Blurred (Connections, #3.5)(34)

Lifting my head, I glance around. We’re standing in her living room and a large purple sofa is only a few feet away. Soft music and candles surround us as the feeling of seduction fills the air. With my hands on her hips, I walk her backward and her free hand tangles in my hair. We reach the sitting area, and with my eyes locked on hers, I can tell her pupils are dilated. I look around and see a bottle of wine, a plate of oranges and lemons, and a clear glass pitcher with a small amount of red liquid left inside it.

“Are you sure I should be here?”

“Yes.”

I grin at her and she smiles back. She circles her fingers around the rim of her glass and picks up the lemon wedge. She sucks on it and drops it inside. My dick throbs at the sight. I take the glass from her and set it down on the table. She watches me with labored breaths—her stare capturing mine. As I straighten, I notice her lips part and, unable to hold back, I seize her mouth so that I can taste her sweetness, practically wanting to devour her.

When I flop us down on the sofa she breaks free of my lips.

“You’ve been drinking,” she remarks, pulling away. But her tone is anything but accusatory.

“So have you.” I point to the bar.

She smirks. “I have. Do you want one?”

“No, I’ll just taste it from your lips,” I answer, and let my mouth find the sweet spots down her neck I remember she always liked me to kiss.

“I’m in a really bad place right now,” she breathes.

“That makes two of us.”

She dips her head back. “Then maybe we can help each other out.”

“Ummmhmm . . .”

“I know about everything that happened to you. Why didn’t you ever tell me about it?”

Her words are mumbled as we grope each other, but I understand them. I pull away and lift her drink from the table for a sip. But when the lemon hits my lips I hand it back to her. “Finish it.”

She downs the rest of the liquid and then stands. She tips her chin toward the bar and moves that way. Watching her, I can see through the thinness of the fabric covering her body that she’s naked underneath. A sparkling black counter separates the kitchen from the living room. Her apartment is entirely her—upscale and modern. Oak cabinets, granite counters, stainless steel appliances, and a fireplace now blazing with flames. I suspect there is even a private terrace but the blinds are closed and I can’t tell for sure.

“You live here alone?”

“No, with my sister. She moved to LA with me.”

I nod. “Is she here?”

“No, it’s just the two of us.”

“Make us both a drink and show me your bedroom.”

Her gaze takes me in and her eyes stop at the tent forming in my pants. The corners of her mouth tip up. “My, aren’t you bossy.”

She comes back into the living room and turns to make us both a drink. I move closer to her so I can swipe her hair to the side and kiss her neck. I breathe in deeply, smelling the lemon she’s squeezing into the sangria. When she rounds the glass with it, my teeth tug at the thin strap on her shoulder. “Take this off.”

Her breath catches as she sets the wine bottle down. She twists in my arms and does as instructed. I step back so I can watch her as she slips her negligee down her shoulder and lets it fall to the ground. She stands naked before me, and when she turns to hand me my drink, I cup her ass. We both gulp our drinks in silence until the desire for her overwhelms me. Setting my glass down, I take hers. She licks her lips and I can see the pulse in her neck throbbing. “Forget the bedroom.”

I slam my mouth to hers, then slide them down to her breast and suck on one of her nipples. She moans and her hands go to the fly of my pants. She unzips them. “Maybe we should talk first,” she moans.

But her hands are already stroking me—we’re way past the time for talking. I try to focus, but I’m seeing two of her and I don’t want to discuss anything right now. “Talk is for later, gorgeous.”

Her hands continue their magic and mine roam her body. My fingers travel down over her hips and to her clean-shaven *. I always loved that about her. I stroke my thumb back and forth over her clit and she purrs. I insert one finger inside her to find that she’s already soaking wet. A moan escapes her lips and I know she’s ready. I dip my head to kiss her and the smell of the lemon intoxicates me. In that moment the dynamics between us shift.

“Turn around,” I order through gritted teeth.

She turns and braces her palms on the counter and I reach into my pocket for my wallet and pull out a condom. I roll it on quickly and just as hastily push into her. I watch myself in the reflection of the microwave door as I slam in and out. Blonde hair turns into red and I lose myself back in time in a moment—in a fantasy come alive that I’ve never been able to forget.

She moans out in pleasure and I come fast and hard, not waiting for her. I crave the release and I can’t hold on. And the words slip out without intention. “Fuck, S’belle, you feel so good.” An instant later she’s pushed away from me. I look at her and she has tears in her eyes. “Kimberly, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

She turns around, grabs her nightgown, and heads out of the room. She stops at the doorway leading to a hallway and looks at me. “I don’t know who S’belle is, but just so you know I was thinking about someone else too while you were f*cking me. I just didn’t call you by his name.”