moaned.
God, she held him again. Felt his excitement and his arousal. It matched the wet heat between her legs perfectly.
His pants were a restrictive barrier, a concrete wall between them, and she lowered her other hand to grasp the buckle of his belt. She needed to feel his naked flesh. Needed to feel the pulsing heat of his cock. Slowly, she slid the belt through the buckle and pushed it out of the way. She twisted his button through the hole and then eased the zip over his solid bulge.
So close. She shoved the flaps aside and touched the waistband of his undies.
Tyler hummed low in his throat.
She pushed at the elastic, felt the swollen tip of his penis under her fingertips and groaned into his mouth.
And then his phone rang.
And rang.
And rang.
She broke the kiss, pulling away as reality crashed in on their rapture.
“It’s Steve,” Tyler said unnecessarily. One minute before desire had darkened his eyes. Now guilt shadowed them.
Self-loathing filled her. She looked down at her naked chest.
“It’s Steve,” he said again and took a step away from her.
Her breasts heaved, wet and glistening from Tyler’s mouth. Her dress hung around the belt she’d cinched in at the waist. She swallowed hard as she realized what she’d done. “He’s trying to find us. He…he said if he finished at a reasonable hour he’d join us for a drink.”
What kind of filthy worm was she, seducing her fiancé’s best friend? Demanding he sleep with her. In that instant she despised herself, and she despised Tyler, for what they’d just done to the one man who under threat of death would never harm them. He was her rock, her support, her mate. Steve was the man she was soon to marry.
A wave of nausea nearly bowled her over. How could she? How could they?
She stared at Tyler. He breathed heavily and ran a tense hand over his clenched jaw.
His eyes were clouded with desire, doubt and regret. His shirt hung open around his waist, and pearly drops of moisture glistened on the head of his cock. Even amid her rush of self-hatred, the pull to go to him was intense, almost magnetic. The impulse to touch him again, to deny their wrongdoing, was potent.
“I have to go.” She pulled her dress up, awkwardly pushing her arms through the straps. “I…I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.” She searched blindly for her purse and found it by the door. Then she turned and looked at Tyler’s tortured face.
He was as disturbed by Steve’s call as she was. As shaken.
Briefly she considered dropping to her knees and licking the sinful pre-come off his dick. “Steve is your friend,” she said thickly. “He’s my fiancé.” He didn’t argue. He simply fastened his pants and buckled his belt.
Yanking the door open, she walked as fast as her legs would carry her, down the corridor and to the lifts, hating herself more with every step she took. She’d gotten maybe ten meters down the passageway when she heard the footsteps.
She walked faster.
It didn’t help. He was behind her. His hands on her hips, compelling her to slow down.
She stopped and whispered, “Tyler, don’t.”
He didn’t say a word. He just pulled her back against him, and let his erection nestle into her butt. His chest cushioned her shoulders. God, she wanted to melt into him.
Wanted to stay in his arms forever. Wanted to feel him buried in her waiting heat.
“Please. Let me go.”
In this heat wave, anything and everything goes.
Heat of the Moment
© 2008 Elle Kennedy
A Red-Hot Summer story
Shelby Harper has lusted over Navy SEAL John Garrett for over a year, but no matter how many sexy signals she sends out, the man shows a complete lack of interest in getting naked. Then she overhears Garrett talking to his SEAL teammate—a discussion in which they conclude she’s vanilla. Stung, Shelby sets out to show them exactly how un-vanilla she is.
Garrett can’t believe it when sweet, sexy Shelby suggests a wild and sweaty
God, she held him again. Felt his excitement and his arousal. It matched the wet heat between her legs perfectly.
His pants were a restrictive barrier, a concrete wall between them, and she lowered her other hand to grasp the buckle of his belt. She needed to feel his naked flesh. Needed to feel the pulsing heat of his cock. Slowly, she slid the belt through the buckle and pushed it out of the way. She twisted his button through the hole and then eased the zip over his solid bulge.
So close. She shoved the flaps aside and touched the waistband of his undies.
Tyler hummed low in his throat.
She pushed at the elastic, felt the swollen tip of his penis under her fingertips and groaned into his mouth.
And then his phone rang.
And rang.
And rang.
She broke the kiss, pulling away as reality crashed in on their rapture.
“It’s Steve,” Tyler said unnecessarily. One minute before desire had darkened his eyes. Now guilt shadowed them.
Self-loathing filled her. She looked down at her naked chest.
“It’s Steve,” he said again and took a step away from her.
Her breasts heaved, wet and glistening from Tyler’s mouth. Her dress hung around the belt she’d cinched in at the waist. She swallowed hard as she realized what she’d done. “He’s trying to find us. He…he said if he finished at a reasonable hour he’d join us for a drink.”
What kind of filthy worm was she, seducing her fiancé’s best friend? Demanding he sleep with her. In that instant she despised herself, and she despised Tyler, for what they’d just done to the one man who under threat of death would never harm them. He was her rock, her support, her mate. Steve was the man she was soon to marry.
A wave of nausea nearly bowled her over. How could she? How could they?
She stared at Tyler. He breathed heavily and ran a tense hand over his clenched jaw.
His eyes were clouded with desire, doubt and regret. His shirt hung open around his waist, and pearly drops of moisture glistened on the head of his cock. Even amid her rush of self-hatred, the pull to go to him was intense, almost magnetic. The impulse to touch him again, to deny their wrongdoing, was potent.
“I have to go.” She pulled her dress up, awkwardly pushing her arms through the straps. “I…I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.” She searched blindly for her purse and found it by the door. Then she turned and looked at Tyler’s tortured face.
He was as disturbed by Steve’s call as she was. As shaken.
Briefly she considered dropping to her knees and licking the sinful pre-come off his dick. “Steve is your friend,” she said thickly. “He’s my fiancé.” He didn’t argue. He simply fastened his pants and buckled his belt.
Yanking the door open, she walked as fast as her legs would carry her, down the corridor and to the lifts, hating herself more with every step she took. She’d gotten maybe ten meters down the passageway when she heard the footsteps.
She walked faster.
It didn’t help. He was behind her. His hands on her hips, compelling her to slow down.
She stopped and whispered, “Tyler, don’t.”
He didn’t say a word. He just pulled her back against him, and let his erection nestle into her butt. His chest cushioned her shoulders. God, she wanted to melt into him.
Wanted to stay in his arms forever. Wanted to feel him buried in her waiting heat.
“Please. Let me go.”
In this heat wave, anything and everything goes.
Heat of the Moment
© 2008 Elle Kennedy
A Red-Hot Summer story
Shelby Harper has lusted over Navy SEAL John Garrett for over a year, but no matter how many sexy signals she sends out, the man shows a complete lack of interest in getting naked. Then she overhears Garrett talking to his SEAL teammate—a discussion in which they conclude she’s vanilla. Stung, Shelby sets out to show them exactly how un-vanilla she is.
Garrett can’t believe it when sweet, sexy Shelby suggests a wild and sweaty
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