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Natalie ducked into Dave’s bathroom to make sure her clothing was on straight and that she didn’t look too slutty. But other than red cheeks and drowsy eyes, she looked pretty normal. There were plenty of other alcohol-flushed faces and glassy eyes in the house by now.
She ran her fingers through her hair, straightened her sweater and made sure her skirt covered everything it should.
Mase was waiting for her in the hall. “My panties,” she remembered, looking toward the back. “They’re out on the porch somewhere.” And she’d just as soon they weren’t found there in the morning.
With a lift of one brow, Mase patted the front pocket of his jeans. “Got ‘em.”
Okay, that was ... sexy, actually. Her cheeks hot, Natalie turned away from his amused gaze. Mase put his hand on the small of her back, and they made their way through the partiers.
“Natalie!” Trev called as they passed the sofa, where he had two pretty brunettes hanging on him and a beer in his hand. “What are you doin’ leaving with a cop? Tell me you’re not a badge bunny, puh-leeze.”
One brunette glared at Nat, the other looked Mase over.
“Eat your heart out, hose jockey,” Mase retorted.
Natalie rolled her eyes. “Bye, Trev.” He gave her a disgruntled look, but she merely looked from the brunettes to him and smiled. Hard to believe he was going to miss her too much.
Teri and Dave were sitting on the stairs in the foyer, talking to a man wearing jeans, boots and a tee advertising the River Ridge Fall Fest from the year before. Nat’s tummy gave a little jump at the sight—she might be taking part in the festival this fall herself, with Rambles.
When Teri reached out and caught her hand, she let her friend pull her aside. Mase had stepped aside to speak to Dave.
“Having fun?” Teri asked.
Nat gave her a look she was sure reeked of guilt.
Teri looked from her to Mase and grinned. “I’m spending the night here, so the condo’s gonna be empty ... just in case you care.”
Natalie’s cheeks burned. “Thanks.”
Teri patted her shoulder. “I’m happy to see you smiling, girlfriend. Just don’t break any furniture.”
“I promise.”
“See you all later,” Mase said, returning to Nat’s side. “Thanks, Dave. Teri.”
Natalie smiled at the couple. “Thanks for the great party, you two. Night.”
* * *
DAVE’S BLOCK WAS FULL of shiny, late model pickup trucks. Mase’s turned out to be a new red Chevy with lots of chrome. Mase held open the door for her, and she climbed inside, then waited while he walked around to get in and start up the powerful motor. She couldn’t quite believe she was with this stranger, but she wasn’t quitting now.
At the condo, which was on a quiet cul-de-sac in a new development east of Dave’s house, Natalie locked the front door behind her and then turned to Mase, her tummy twisting with nerves and excitement.
He stood in the middle of Teri’s living room, and somehow he looked even better than he had the moment they met, because now she knew exactly how that mouth and those hands felt on her, and what he had in those tight, faded jeans.
He held out his hand to her.
She took it and led him into the bedroom she was using. Beside the queen bed, covered in cream matelassé to match the walls and carpet, he flipped on the bedside lamp and then pulled off his vest, tossing it over the small, flowered armchair. It landed beside her summer robe. The contrast between the masculine leather and the pale yellow satin sent a thrill of pleasure through her.
“Your turn,” he said to her. “Take off your top for me, Natalie.”
Natalie froze. Right. They were going to get naked ... and this time they weren’t enclosed in the friendly darkness.
He eyed her searchingly. “You change your mind?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I just ... can we turn off the light?”
His eyes narrowed, that hazel gleam focusing like a laser. “Why would we wanna do that, Natalie?”
She blew out a breath and wrinkled her nose, wrapping her fingers in the soft knit of her sweater. “Because ... I’m kind of ... I need to lose some weight, okay?” She worked out occasionally, but she also liked her beer or glass of wine in the evening and she liked her food. All of which showed on her round ass, hips and thighs.
“Natalie,” he said, that note of command back in his voice. “Look at me. No, look me in the eye.”
Nat met his gaze, and he shook his head slowly. “Baby, you do not need to lose weight. Believe me, I had my hands on that pretty ass, that little waist and those round tits, and I’ll tell you, you are a wet dream walkin’. I like what I felt, what I fucked and what I’ve seen, and I wanna see it all. Now, you with me here?”
Searching his gaze, Nat found only sincerity. His admiration wrapped around her, as warm and strong as his arms. And just as thrilling.
“I ain’t the best-looking’ guy around,” he went on. “But I’ve had my share of women, and you are fine.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, a smile blooming wide.
He cocked his head, smiling back. “Truth, baby. That’s all.”
Okay then. He didn’t think she was too round. Excitement coursing through her like champagne bubbles, Nat took the hem of her top, and pulled it up and over her head. Pulling it free of her hair, she tossed the sweater at the chair. She missed, but who cared, when a tough cop was eating up her breasts, clad only in thin peach lace, with his eyes.
She kicked off her sandals and stood, wiggling her toes into the soft carpet.
“Fuck, that’s pretty,” he approved. “If your panties were that hot, I’m damn sorry I ripped ‘em.”
She shook her head, her hair swishing over her bare shoulders. “No. I could put the matching ones on, though.”
They were actually nothing more than a thong, and uncomfortable as heck, so although she’d succumbed to their purchase at Macy’s, she never wore them. But imagining herself maybe crawling across the bed for him with only the delicate strings decorating her ass made her pussy clench.
“Nah, since you’re bare on the bottom, why don’t you match it up for me. Take off your bra.”
She looked down, dragging out the moment. “I’m still wearing my skirt.”
He nodded. “I know. And knowing you’re bare underneath is hot as fuck, so we’re gonna leave it that way, for now.”
“Okay.” Feeling every centimeter of the parts he’d just mentioned swell with renewed need, Natalie reached up and unfastened the front catch of her bra. Then, with his eyes following every move, she pulled the halves apart and shrugged the bra from her shoulders. It fell down her arms, leaving her breasts bared to his gaze.
He looked for a long moment, in which her toes curled into her sandals with nerves. Did he still find her breasts pretty now that they weren’t buoyed up by underwires and lace? Were her nipples too small? Were the small marks left on her shoulders by her bra straps a turn-off?
Slowly, Mase sank onto the bed behind him, and patted his thigh. “C’mere, pretty woman.”
Smiling with relief and shy joy, she went to him. But when she angled her hips to sit on his thigh, he shook his head. “Over my lap, Natalie.”
She froze. “Huh? Why?”
He gave her a roguish look from under his heavy brows, and his hand slipped around the back of her knee, warm and strong. “You know why.”
Heat bloomed inside her, suffusing her cheeks and the bare skin of her chest. Her gaze fell away from his. Did she dare go along with his game? Yes, whispered a sly voice inside her. You want this, you know you do.
“B-because I touched myself,” she said, watching him. Damn, this was weird, but it was also fun.
“That’s right.” His warm hand slid higher, up the back of her thigh. “Right there on that porch, where anyone could have caught you with your fingers in your pussy, like I did. And then what did you do?”
She bit her lip, her body angling towards his warmth. “I let you take my panties off, and fuck me over the railing.” And give her the best orgasm she could recall.
“And?” he went on relentlessly.
Her cheeks burned. “And I—I tried to fuck you, without letting you be in charge.” Which was clearly part of this sensual, nerve-wracking game they were playing. And she didn’t want to stop, that was for sure.
“That’s right.” His grip tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her inner thigh. “And you came so hard you nearly squeezed my cock off. You fuckin’ loved the risk, didn’t you, Natalie?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I did.” As his hand slid higher, his finger delving into the crevice of her ass, she shivered with pleasure, a near orgasm feathering through her.
“Fuck, you are a naughty girl,” he rasped. “And naughty girls need a spanking. Say it.”
“I’m a naughty girl,” she said. “And I need to be ... spanked.” She needed his hands on her again was what she needed. When he’d spanked her before, it had been just hard enough to be exciting. She could handle more of that, she’d even enjoy it.
“That’s right,” he approved, the warmth of his gaze wrapping deep inside her. “Now come down here and take your punishment, so I can eat your pussy and then fuck you again.”
Just the thought of that mouth, surrounded by his ‘stache and goatee, on her bared, sensitive sex was enough to make Nat lean down and position herself over his thighs. He showed her exactly how he wanted her, her ass in the air like an offering, her face down on the bed, knees bent and legs apart. The smooth comforter rubbed her distended nipples and her cheek, hot with embarrassment and excitement.
He smoothed one hand up under her skirt and brushed her hair back from her face with the other. “You have no idea how gorgeous you look right now, Nat,” he told her.
She felt air on her bare bottom, so she could well imagine his view. Everything, displayed for him to look at and touch. She scrunched her eyes shut as if she could hide from herself.
“But we need a signal,” he went on, his hand splayed over both of her ass cheeks. “In case you need me to stop. I don’t wanna take this farther than you’re comfortable.”
“I’ll tell you if I want you to stop,” she assured him, another blush scalding her face.
Like maybe now, if he didn’t get on with it. Although the way his thumb was tracing her ass crack was pretty hot. She wished he’d take it a little deeper. She bit her lip to restrain herself from arching up into his touch. She had a feeling he wouldn’t want that right now.
“No, I mean if you’re really serious,” he said, his tone adamant. “Done, finito. Give me a word, baby.”
“Okay.” Weird, but whatever. She’d read about people using colors as code words. “Um, purple?” She hated the color, and never wore it.
“Purple,” he repeated. “Got it.”
Then he laid one hand on the small of her back. “Now,” he said. “Next time you even think about playing with your sweet pussy where another man might see you, I want you to remember this.”
When his hard palm connected with her ass in a smack that echoed through the quiet apartment, Natalie flinched, her body contracting over his thighs. Her hand fisted on the bedspread. She could safely say she’d remember that, all right.
He petted the spot where he’d spanked her and then smacked her again, in a different spot. Oh, holy hell. That was edging on lavender ... with purple on the way. Even if her foolish pussy was contracting at his display of masculine command. Part of her was almost tempted to waggle her ass for more.
This was definitely the kinkiest sex she’d ever participated in, and the most exciting. This was sensation and shock, intense and suspenseful. An interlude into which she could fling herself without reservations, knowing somehow that Mase would catch her, hold her ... and make her feel like a woman. A real woman who deserved to have her body worshipped and pleasured, not ignored.
She waited, for another sting, another surge of sensation, knowing he was focused on her, watching her.
But the next smack was light, and then he petted her again. It felt so good, settling the sting to a throb inside her. His other hand stayed on her back, anchoring her, holding her safe.
“Spread these pretty thighs for me,” Mase ordered, his fingers caressing her inner thigh. “Wider. That’s right. Fuck, that’s pretty, Nat.”
She didn’t know which was hotter, the throb of excitement where he was undoubtedly looking at her, or the blush burning her face and chest. She moved, rubbing her breasts into the bed, welcoming the abrasion on her tight, throbbing nipples.
Maybe he wouldn’t notice if she turned her hands palm up and just sort of played with them.
“You just don’t learn, do you?” he asked, amusement and heat in his voice and the squeeze of his hand on her back. “Playing with your tits. Those are mine tonight, Natalie. I say what happens with them, too.”
He tsked, sounding remarkably insincere. She tensed in anticipation and peered up at him from the corner of her eye, her cheek still pressed into the smooth comforter. He was shaking his head at her. “Now I’m gonna have to spank your pussy.”
She tensed, her thighs pressed together. “Spank my—I don’t think so.”
He chuckled, a husky, engaging sound. “Not hard, baby. And since you’re already holding those pretty tits, grab your nipples for me. Nice and tight.”
He smacked her ass, just hard enough to sting. “What do you say?”
She pressed her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, moaning at the relief. “Yes, Mase.”
“Good girl,” he approved. “Now spread, and hang on.”
She did. And waited, holding her breath. He smacked her exposed labia, a sharp little tap. The shock sent pleasure zinging through her so hard Natalie whimpered, arching her neck, her lips open in silent entreaty as she rolled her nipples.
“You good?” he asked, his hand stroking her back.
She nodded.
“Good. Lift your ass up higher,” he ordered, and she did, quickly, waiting with breathless anticipation. She didn’t have to wait long. This time he spanked her labia and her mons, and when she was still flinching from the sting, he gave her swollen clitoris a swift pet with his fingertips.
“Oh, no,” she protested when the caress disappeared. “Don’t stop.”
“You want more?” he asked. “Then you’ve gotta take the spanking too. Which is it gonna be, Nat?”
She was so going to hell for this. “More.”
Smack. Caress, then smack.
Oh, God, she was going to come the very next time he touched her. She hung on a precipice, her body primed, ready and quivering with eagerness.
Which was when he stopped.
“No-oo.” Natalie’s head spun as he slid his arm under her, lifted her up and around, setting her astride his thighs on her knees with an ease she would’ve considered amazing if her brain had been working right. It wasn’t.
“Why’d you stop?” she asked, bracing one palm on his shoulder to toss her hair back. A lock of clung to her damp, flushed cheek, and he watched as she pushed it back.
He smiled at her. “Because you’ve been punished, and now you’re ready for me to eat your pussy. Aren’t you?”
She nodded. Oh, was she ever. Her gaze on his mouth, she shivered with renewed anticipation, her pussy spasming.
“Good,” he approved. “Then stand up here.”
Natalie blinked. “Stand up? On the bed?” What was this, Cirque de Boudoir?
He raised one of his heavy eyebrows and she bit her lip. “Um, yes, Mase.”
She braced her hands on his broad shoulders. He had really nice shoulders. She could feel the play of heavy muscles under her hands as she got one foot, then the other under her and stood, her feet on either side of his thighs, her skirt hanging in his face. She opened her mouth to ask if she should take it off, and closed her mouth again. Removing her skirt would leave her slightly rounded tummy hanging right in his face.
He smiled up at her. “Now lift your skirt, baby. Both hands.”
She eyed the edge of the bed inches from her heels. The carpet looked awfully far away from up here. “Jesus, Mase. Don’t let me fall.”
His hands slid up the back of her bare legs and squeezed. “I won’t let you fall. But if that skirt doesn’t head north in point five seconds, I will give you another spanking. A hard one.”
That one hadn’t been hard? She let go of him and curled her fingers under the hem of her skirt, lifting it up to crotch level.
“Higher, baby,” he said, his eyes on her face. “I like to see what I’m eatin’.”
Her pussy contracted sharply and she shivered with eagerness. She lifted the light fabric to waist level, and watched him look at her.
“There’s those pretty little curls,” he approved. “Damn, just a shade darker than the hair on your head. Strawberry blonde ... no wonder I thought you’d taste like strawberries all over.”
He bent his head to her, and inhaled. “Mm-mm, you smell even better. Sweet, hot pussy, all worked up from my cock and my hands, my favorite.”
Then he put his mouth on her, his tongue sliding over her clit, slick and wet and soft. Natalie’s eyes rolled back in her head, her lashes fluttering down. She wanted to watch, but it just felt too good.
He pressed his face to her, the soft bristles of his facial hair tickling and abrading her tender skin, his warm, moist lips fastening on her mons. He thrust his tongue right inside her labia, and licked her once, twice and then laved her clitoris with the butterfly tip. So wet and soft. So utterly perfect.
Nat whimpered, she couldn’t help it. The soft, breathy sound hung on the quiet air, then blended with his deep, rough groan of pleasure as she shook in his grasp.
“Come for me, Natalie,” he ordered, and went back to his soft, intimate caress.
She did. Oh, she did, jerking and shuddering in his grasp like a puppet as she came on his mouth, uttering helpless sounds of pleasure all the while.
Then she slipped down through his hands like a melted jello shot and collapsed on his lap, smiling beatifically. “Oh, my God,” she mumbled against his shoulder.
She arched her back to rub her breasts against his chest. He was hard and hot, his cotton tee smooth against her breasts. She stroked her hands over his heavy shoulders, luxuriating in the plush, hard muscle.
“Nah, just me,” he said, and flexed his hips, driving his denim clad erection up against her hot, melted center. Her laugh turned into a gasp.
“Mm-mm,” she approved. “Your turn.”
“My turn to what?”
“Take off some clothes?” she suggested, tracing the faded beer logo on his tee. “I want to see, too.”
His hands tightened on her waist. “There’s just one thing.” She looked up in surprise to see a look of discomfort moving through his beautiful eyes. “I ... have a pretty ugly scar. I can leave my shirt on.”
“No,” she protested. “Mase, I’m not a little girl. I won’t faint because you have an injury. Are you okay, though? Do we need to be more careful?” She wouldn’t mind being on top, doing the rest of the work for the two of them.
He reached for the hem of his tee. “Nah. But I’ll warn you, it ain’t pretty.”
He reached his right arm behind his head and grabbed a handful of fabric, then lifted, pulling the tee over his head while favoring his left shoulder.
Nat was distracted for a moment by the glory of hard abs, the widening vee of his rib cage, two small flat nipples on the smooth plain of his chest and then the sexy sight of his underarms, hard muscles framing tufts of silky brown hair. His tanned throat and forearms faded into pale torso.
But when he tossed the tee to one side and lowered his arms, she gasped. He had a scar all right—a fresh one. Angry red flesh swelled around the site of a puckered wound high in his left shoulder.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed, her hands going to his chest, petting and soothing. “Mase. Is that a gunshot wound?”