A few hours later, Kathryn returned to the palatial compound she now called home. The lighting was dim, but not dark, lending a warm glow to the interior. Through the glass patio doors, she could see Jake leaning against the balcony wall, enjoying a drink and a cigar, and she headed out.
The perfume of whiskey and cigar smoke breezed across her, bringing back the happier highlights of her travels.
“San Cristobal?” she asked, popping the words with whimsy.
Her question was met with an impressed nod. “You know your cigars. It is. Quintessence.”
“May I?” she asked, and when he nodded, her fingers lifted the cigar from his hand. Expertly, she took a few puffs, then blew out a relaxed breath.
His awestruck stare prompted her smile, and she looked up innocently.
“What? I indulge every now and then. I did some charity work in South America just before I joined the Army.” She admired the cigar between her fingers before handing it back. “Good times.” Her smile beamed from a girl who’d enjoyed a night or two of frivolous fun. “So, are we playing twenty questions?”
He tapped out the cigar on the outside of the railing and set it on the table before leading her back inside. His nod was declarative. “I’m game. But I’m starving.”
“Sure. So you want to eat first?”
The line of his mouth curled up along with a distinctly diabolical brow. “Oh no. I’m eating after our game.”
He led her to the oversized sofa and offered her a seat, but opted to stand. “Here’s the game. You ask me a question, any question at all. The more you probe, the better. When you’re satisfied I’ve answered your question completely, you remove a piece of clothing. And vice versa.”
“And what happens when we’re out of clothes?” she asked.
He took another sip of his booze, letting his darkened gaze travel over her body. “Then I eat.” He polished off his drink and made his way to grab another. “Would you like one?”
“Definitely.”
A moment later, he brought two glasses to the couch, placing one in her waiting hand.
“Okay,” she said. “Who goes first?”
“Ladies always go first.”
“Lucky me.” She tried not to sound too eager. Pulling in a breath, she said, “Okay, who’s Chelsea Anders?”
After a sip, he seemed to suddenly lose interest in his whiskey neat, and set down the glass.
“Chelsea Anders.” His gaze drifted, staring off into nothing. “Chels was my childhood sweetheart. We were pretty much inseparable since middle school. Did everything together. Dated forever. Whole photo books filled page after page of two kids growing up side by side. We got engaged the night we graduated from high school. But between my training and deployments, we never saw each other. We broke it off after my last deployment.”
He trailed off, struggling to say more.
Keeping the million and one follow-up questions to herself, Kathryn slipped off her leather jacket.
“Should I grab a coat too?” he asked.
Her face filled with mischief. “Too late. The game’s already started. Your turn.”
“My turn.” He settled back into the corner of the sofa, his fingers woven comfortably across his torso. “Did every single thing we did in the shower turn you on?”
Her gaze dropped to her drink. Pretending to whiff the amber liquid, she tried hiding the blush rushing up her cheeks and neck. She took a large swallow and held the glass tightly to her chest as she nodded and raised her head. “Yes.”
He held her gaze for a second before she looked away. Obviously satisfied, he sat up and unbuttoned his shirt, tossed it aside. “Your turn.”
Her next question was tricky. She didn’t want to pry, but she wanted so much more about his history with his supermodel ex.
“Hey,” Jake said, pulling her out of her mental ping-pong tournament. “This is a time for us to get our cards on the table. I know you’ll push my comfort zone, but I’m pushing yours too. I can take whatever you have to throw at me. Don’t hold back with me. Not now. Not ever.” He pulled her on his lap, suddenly serious in their game. “It’s no fun if you hold back.”
Her eyes searched his. Secure in his sincerity, she pressed on. “Why would Chelsea have a life insurance policy on you? She wasn’t listed as your next of kin when I . . . treated you.”
“How do you know that?”
Kathryn shrugged, knowing it was hopeless to keep this from him. “I checked. In case we lost you again.”
He pulled her close, so her head rested on the warmth of his chest. “Chels and I were engaged, but my dad and I decided it would be best if he was my next of kin. If someone had to break the news to my mom and Chels, we both wanted it to be him. But I wasn’t the same man when I returned home, and she wasn’t the same girl. We’d drifted apart.”
Wanting to lighten the mood, Kathryn turned playful. “So, did we each do a question?”
“Yup,” he said, tugging his T-shirt off over his head, and she did the same. Then he pulled her right back into his arms. “But I’m going next. Would you like more of what I gave you in the shower?”
Just thinking about it tied her tongue, and she struggled to answer.
His hand skated down her arm, and he whispered, “Well, kitten?”
Her breath coming out in little pants, she said softly, “Y-yes.”
He slipped out from her embrace and stood. As he stared down, his eyes darkened a shade from the bright hazel they were during the day. Tracing her lip with his thumb, he said, “Remove my pants.”
She did. With the button free and zipper undone, his bulge broke through as his trousers hit the floor. He stayed standing. Daring, she traced the band of his briefs with a finger and caught his eyes, waiting for approval.
He nodded, and off his briefs came. When she opened her mouth, ready to take him in, he touched her hair. “Not yet. Your clothes are standing between me and my meal. You’ve got one last question.”
“Right.” She exhaled slowly, absorbed in his hypnotic rod. “Um . . .” She cleared her throat, worried she was about to spoil an unbelievably hot moment, and hating herself for it. Dropping her head, she asked, “Do you still have feelings for her?”
He grabbed Kathryn’s arms, pulling her to her feet. “Not the way you think. And nothing like the feelings I have for you.” His gaze dropped to her jeans. “Take off the rest of your clothes. Then I want you bending over the breakfast table. You left the house without a word.”
She tried to interrupt, but he pressed a finger to her lips, sealing in her excuse.
“I was late. I didn’t call or text. Your quid pro quo was deserved. But I’m punishing you anyway, unless you stop me. And afterward, I’m eating.” He released her and stepped back.
Slowly, she removed her jeans.
I’m so wet.
Too wet.
He’ll think I peed my pants.
Slipping the stretchy lace down her legs, she casually slid her underwear beneath her bundled jeans, hiding the evidence.
“Not so fast, little kitten. Hand them to me.”
Although she didn’t want to, she handed him the tight wad of soaked undies.
The breakfast nook glowed with moonlight. When she did as he asked, pressing her palms on the table, the bright beams hit her like a spotlight. He posed her, leaning her over a little more, and pulled her hips back.
“Don’t move,” he said, and his words locked her in place.
His hot hands explored her, rubbing up and down her thighs and ass, finally settling across her slick center. He swiped, then sucked his finger clean.
His moan was deep, and his words raspy. “I want more.”
He slapped her ass—hard. Her loud whimper melted to a moan. He rubbed her ass, then spanked her other cheek even harder. Smack after heavenly smack, her waiting eruption grew.
His punishment was merciless, and her cries revealed her ecstasy. Two fingers dove deep to chase the source of her trembling. A few pumps in and he stopped, sliding his fingers out and sucking them clean of every drop of her need.
Then he rested his cock on the crack of her ass.
Just having the weight of his hard, heavy dick on her tender hole was too much. She felt new wetness dripping down the inside of her thigh, and she squirmed beneath him.
“Mmm . . . that’s it. I’m ready to see my main course.” With a last spank, he pulled back. “Sit on the edge of the table.”
Setting a chair before her, he made himself comfortable. There he sat, hard as a rock, his elbows on the armrests, and his fingers steepled to his chin. His hungry eyes scanned her, taking in every line of her body.
“Lean back,” he said. “Rest your weight on your hands.”
Obeying, she slid her palms behind her, lifting her chest and trying to calm her ragged breathing.
“Put your foot here.” His chin pointed to the armrest, but his hands stayed clasped together.
Doing her best Cirque du Soleil imitation, she arched her body back, lifting her leg as her foot found the arm of the chair.
He’d opened her, capturing her erotic exposure front and center.
“Now the other one.”
With that, she shifted her weight to follow his instruction, instantly graduating from dancer to gymnast.
The minute her foot landed on the armrest, his fingers swiped through the moisture at the very top of her inner thigh. Her head dropped back, and she released a gasp as she shivered.
Her eyes fell shut as his lips made his way up her thighs, one hot little nibble at a time. Closer to her center, his tongue lashed her in long strokes, licking every juicy drop along her legs.
His avoiding her pussy pushed her to the brink. Her hips rocked, and her ass swiveled. But it was no use. His flaming tongue was set to torture.
Fidgeting for dear life, she clutched the edge of the table, her nails etching her frantic desire into the wood. “Please,” she begged.
“Not good enough.” He stopped, and his gaze locked on her wanting eyes peering through heavy lids. The tip of his finger traced the top of her thigh. “You tried hiding something from me.”
Confused, she panted, barely able to breathe. “What?”
He raised her lace undies by one finger, swinging them slowly in the moonlight. “Trying to hide your sweet soaking-wet panties from me. That has earned you a day of no undies . . . and a few more minutes of this.”
The heat from his finger was killing her as he tormented her. His fingertip grazed figure eights across her thighs and traced up her ass, avoiding her pleasure center.
Overcome with desire, she panted out, “I need you.”
Her whimpers climbed as his tongue skimmed her, tracing a torturous path along her slit. Her back arched, and then she lifted her hips.
Grinning, he gripped her hips, holding her in place. His voice deepened with the darkness of his eyes. “I know what you need.”
The heat of his breath at her entrance made a gasp shoot from her throat.
The serpentine stroke of his tongue was so strong, her body began to shudder, climbing for an orgasm way too fast. He pulled back.
“I—I . . .”
“Shh.”
He massaged her hips, letting her come back down, then pressed two fingers inside her, pumping hard. Her legs draped over his shoulders as the shuddering burst from deep within.
“Come, little kitten.” His tongue made its way to her clit, where his lips latched hard, pushing her to another level of bliss. Her throaty screams echoed throughout the room, stopped only by the exhaustion of her breath.
Collapsing on her elbows, she began sliding off the table. He lifted her, then set her into the chair still warm from his body. Hers wouldn’t be the only orgasm that night.
He took a turn propping a foot on the armrest, as the hunger in his eyes melted to longing. When the bravest man she’d ever known wanted nothing more than her lips around his cock, the man was getting some serious deep throat, and failure was not an option.
Fisting the base of his heavy shaft, she worked his length with her lips and tongue, sweeping further down each time. But now and again, she’d come up for air, needing to take an amateur breath.
“Easy, kitten,” he finally said before riding her lips to the peak of momentum. “I’m pulling out.”
The hell you are.
In too deep to turn back now, she clutched his ass, keeping him locked in her mouth. He tugged her hair, capturing her eyes, but not losing his rhythm.
Gruff and low, he demanded an answer. “Is this what you want?”
Her steady sucking picked up as her fingernails grazed his butt.
She watched him, a voyeur in her own porno. His body moving was the hottest version of her every fantasy. His rapid thrusting slowed and he pulled in a breath, seeming to ride out the sensation.
Her fingers walked high up his back, teasing his skin by letting her nails sink in, then waiting. Faster, he pounded into her mouth, his grip tightening on her hair.
“Now,” he cried, and she unleashed her nails deep down his body.
His release was hot in her throat, filling her with the satisfaction of knowing he was hers too.
He pulled out, lifting her shivering body into the heat of his, and carried her to bed.