I’ll send everything via email.” That was the last thing she said before hanging up.
My aunt was right. I couldn’t let Wes convince me that this was something more than what it was. I had to go to Seattle. I would go to Seattle. I looked down at the phone. And Mr. Hot Artist Man was going to be my next experience.
***
“Honey, I’m home!” Wes’s voice boomed through the house and trickled outside where I was chilling in the heated pool. He entered the patio area in a suit and a smile. Christ, the guy was sexy. He was always good-looking, but there was something about the act of playing dress-up that I enjoyed. Maybe it was undressing him that I enjoyed more.
“You’re home early.” It was only two-thirty. I pulled myself up and out of the pool, and sat on the edge.
Wes stopped advancing toward me and stood still right at the edge of the pool. His gaze was on me but not on my eyes. He scanned my form with those emerald gems, the look so heated I could practically feel where they landed along my breasts, belly, thighs. I watched as he toed off his shoes then allowed his blazer to drop to the deck. As if cued, I leaned onto my hands arching my back suggestively, pressing my breasts out towards the sky and allowing my head to tip back. My legs opened a bit to balance me. The wisp of a bathing suit left nothing to the imagination, and when I lifted my head to see if my little show was working, I heard a heavy splash. Fully clothed, Wes’s form sluiced through the water. He was like a dark shark swimming toward its prey.
He made it to the edge of the pool in one go. His body shot out of the water looking all kinds of water godish. I leaned forward and gripped his wet tie and tugged him between my legs. His hands went to my knees and slid them wide apart.
“That was impulsive,” I said against his lips not yet kissing him, just allowing the water from the pool to drip between our mouths.
“Think so? Then you’re going to love this.” His mouth crashed over mine, his tongue seeking entrance. Wes kissed me as if he’d never get another chance, as though he was starving for the taste of my lips. I knew I was starving for a taste of him. “Been thinking of your taste all damned day,” he growled before dragging his tongue down my torso and between my breasts. He slipped his fingers into the skimpy triangles of the bikini and pushed the fabric aside, baring my breasts. My nipples promptly puckered tight at the change in temperature. “I dream of these beauties,” he said flicking the tip with his tongue before drawing it into the heat of his mouth. I cried out as my hands went to his head to hold him against me.
The sucking continued until I was squeezing his body against my form, trying to find some friction. When he had me on the edge of orgasm just from playing with my tits, something he loved doing, he pushed me back. I laid on the cold concrete, the chill reaching my bones until his clever fingers found the ties at the side of my bottoms and pulled. Oh, shit. He was going to do this right here, out in the open light of day.
“Wes,” I warned, but the warning didn’t carry much weight. I was too far gone in a haze of lust to put up much resistance. If Ms. Croft came upon us, she’d just keep on walking. She was pure class. Me, not so much. Wes nipped at the fleshy part of my thighs as he lifted each leg out of the water and set my feet on the pool’s edge bending my legs at a ninety degree angle. Then he clasped each knee and spread me open just like a bird’s wings opening to fly. And I did fly, the second his tongue touched down on that sensitive bundle of nerves. My hands flew to his head to hold him in place. He grabbed both of them and set them on the concrete and pushed them under my ass.
“Sit on ‘em, no touching,” he scolded. Ah, so that was how this was going to play out. He wanted full control. Shit, that meant he was going to take me beyond my limits and push me over
My aunt was right. I couldn’t let Wes convince me that this was something more than what it was. I had to go to Seattle. I would go to Seattle. I looked down at the phone. And Mr. Hot Artist Man was going to be my next experience.
***
“Honey, I’m home!” Wes’s voice boomed through the house and trickled outside where I was chilling in the heated pool. He entered the patio area in a suit and a smile. Christ, the guy was sexy. He was always good-looking, but there was something about the act of playing dress-up that I enjoyed. Maybe it was undressing him that I enjoyed more.
“You’re home early.” It was only two-thirty. I pulled myself up and out of the pool, and sat on the edge.
Wes stopped advancing toward me and stood still right at the edge of the pool. His gaze was on me but not on my eyes. He scanned my form with those emerald gems, the look so heated I could practically feel where they landed along my breasts, belly, thighs. I watched as he toed off his shoes then allowed his blazer to drop to the deck. As if cued, I leaned onto my hands arching my back suggestively, pressing my breasts out towards the sky and allowing my head to tip back. My legs opened a bit to balance me. The wisp of a bathing suit left nothing to the imagination, and when I lifted my head to see if my little show was working, I heard a heavy splash. Fully clothed, Wes’s form sluiced through the water. He was like a dark shark swimming toward its prey.
He made it to the edge of the pool in one go. His body shot out of the water looking all kinds of water godish. I leaned forward and gripped his wet tie and tugged him between my legs. His hands went to my knees and slid them wide apart.
“That was impulsive,” I said against his lips not yet kissing him, just allowing the water from the pool to drip between our mouths.
“Think so? Then you’re going to love this.” His mouth crashed over mine, his tongue seeking entrance. Wes kissed me as if he’d never get another chance, as though he was starving for the taste of my lips. I knew I was starving for a taste of him. “Been thinking of your taste all damned day,” he growled before dragging his tongue down my torso and between my breasts. He slipped his fingers into the skimpy triangles of the bikini and pushed the fabric aside, baring my breasts. My nipples promptly puckered tight at the change in temperature. “I dream of these beauties,” he said flicking the tip with his tongue before drawing it into the heat of his mouth. I cried out as my hands went to his head to hold him against me.
The sucking continued until I was squeezing his body against my form, trying to find some friction. When he had me on the edge of orgasm just from playing with my tits, something he loved doing, he pushed me back. I laid on the cold concrete, the chill reaching my bones until his clever fingers found the ties at the side of my bottoms and pulled. Oh, shit. He was going to do this right here, out in the open light of day.
“Wes,” I warned, but the warning didn’t carry much weight. I was too far gone in a haze of lust to put up much resistance. If Ms. Croft came upon us, she’d just keep on walking. She was pure class. Me, not so much. Wes nipped at the fleshy part of my thighs as he lifted each leg out of the water and set my feet on the pool’s edge bending my legs at a ninety degree angle. Then he clasped each knee and spread me open just like a bird’s wings opening to fly. And I did fly, the second his tongue touched down on that sensitive bundle of nerves. My hands flew to his head to hold him in place. He grabbed both of them and set them on the concrete and pushed them under my ass.
“Sit on ‘em, no touching,” he scolded. Ah, so that was how this was going to play out. He wanted full control. Shit, that meant he was going to take me beyond my limits and push me over
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