Envy(124)

Several minutes passed. She soaked up the intimacy, realizing how bloody fabulous it was to be a woman in such intimate contact with a man. No, not a man. She’d had a man. She loved being intimate with this man. Until now, she hadn’t known there could be such a vast difference between two members of the same sex, of the same species.

“You deviated from the book,” she whispered.

“Did I? My memory’s a little foggy.”

“There was nothing like that in the book. Nothing that even comes close. In any book.”

She raised her head and looked at him, inched up and softly kissed his lips, then slipped her tongue into his mouth and rubbed the tip of his. As the kiss intensified, she seductively ground her pelvis against his erection.

He broke from their kiss and angled his head back until it was buried in his pillow. His skin appeared to be stretched tightly over the bones of his face. His hands were gripping her hips hard in an effort to keep her still.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“That’s not in the book, either.”

“Oh, sorry. Let’s see what comes next.” Without changing their position, she awkwardly reached for her glasses and slipped them on, then opened the book and pretended to read silently. “Oh, yes, I remember now. He takes her hand and guides it to…”

“His cock.”

“That’s what it says.”

Coming off him slowly, she resumed her original place beside him. She straightened her nightgown and was about to replace the straps on her shoulders, when Parker gave his head a negative shake. Maris pulled the gown off over her head. For a few seconds she held it against her chest, then tossed it toward the foot of the bed. Parker took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring slightly.

He ran his hand over her breasts, down her rib cage and belly, and combed his fingertips through her damp pubic hair before returning to her breast. He lightly pinched the nipple between his fingers and watched it harden.

She laid her hand on his stomach. The hair grew laterally toward a silky strip that took a downward turn at his navel. Her eyes tracked it; her hand followed it beneath the sheet.

But Parker reached down and stopped it. “This is where the fantasy ends, Maris.”

Her gaze swung up to his. His expression was set and hard. He wasn’t kidding. In a matter of moments, he had physically withdrawn and taken a giant step backward emotionally. “I don’t understand.”

“This isn’t fiction.”

“I’m glad it’s not.”

“This is reality.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have a clue,” he said harshly. “You pull that sheet back and you’ll get a jolt of reality you never bargained for.”

She took a quick glance at his legs beneath the covering of the sheet. Smiling softly, she shook her head. “Do you think I care about your scars?”

“I think you will, yeah.”

“You’re wrong.” She gazed into his face, and, near tears, said, “Parker, you can’t possibly comprehend what you’ve done for me. No, listen, please,” she said when he was about to interrupt. “I may only have the courage to say this once.”

She removed her glasses, rubbed her eyes, moistened her lips, smiled ruefully. “I’ve never played sex games like this before. I’ve only read about this kind of play. I thought it only occurred in books. What you said the other night on the beach, while crude, was correct. With Noah, I never felt free to express myself sexually. What happened between us just now? Would have been unthinkable to me a few weeks ago.

“That was totally out of character with the woman who entered Terry’s Bar and Grill looking for you. I didn’t know until now what I’ve been missing. I’ve been craving that kind of passion. Sensual meltdown. Absolute and unapologetic sexual abandon. You gave me that. But it’s incomplete. It won’t mean anything unless we share it. Let me share it,” she finished huskily. “Please.”

He continued to stare at her, but his expression was no longer tense and set. In fact, he looked more vulnerable than she would have believed possible. “I’m not pretty, Maris.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Tentatively, she leaned toward him. He didn’t stop her. She began at his neck and kissed her way down. Her lips whisked across his skin, her tongue licked it softly. Her mouth wetly covered his nipple and he hissed a profanity and sank his fingers into her hair.

She pressed another openmouthed kiss just below his navel as she pushed the sheet down below his hips. He groaned her name when she encircled his penis with her hand. It throbbed with life and vitality. She stroked it slowly, varying the tension of her fingers as she worked her way up. She rubbed her thumb across the tip, smearing a pearly bead of semen that had leaked from it.

“Isn’t this how Frenchy got her nickname?” she asked in a voice unintentionally smoky.

“Maris…” Her name vaporized on his lips when she bent over him.

She reveled in the musky taste and scent. She loved feeling the quickening in his belly, hearing his hoarse exclamations of arousal, experiencing the feel of him inside her mouth.

His grip on her hair tightened, not enough to hurt, only enough to let her know it was time to switch positions. She bridged him with her thighs and remained poised above him while he took his penis in his own hand and rubbed the smooth head against her, baiting her desire until she had to have him inside her. Then she sank down, sheathing him slowly, her body stretching to take all of him.