Play with Me Read online

  He could set out to be as slow and deliberate as he wanted. Amanda knew, however, that his strength would only last so long.

  She’d been there, done that, and brought home the orgasms to prove it.

  Bare from the waist down, she casually lifted one leg, letting her thighs fall apart so he could see the glistening effect he’d already had on her.

  He hesitated for a second, then, as if unable to resist, he reached for her. Tracing her pelvic bone with his fingertips, he finally slid them down to swirl over her clit.

  Amanda jerked, her hips lifting off the bed. He didn’t go any faster, or further, he just continued to toy with her, to pluck her like a fine instrument, until she was gasping. Then he moved his hand away and reached for the bottom button of her blouse. He unfastened it, pressing his mouth to the bare skin of her belly. The next button—and that wicked, wonderful mouth moved higher.

  By the time he reached her midriff, his tongue was involved and he was taking tiny tastes of her, as if he was nibbling delicately on some luscious dessert. She twisted beneath him, arching toward that questing mouth and those careful fingers.

  For the first time, she got a sense of just how difficult this being restrained was going to be. Because she desperately wanted to twine her hands in his hair, to caress his handsome face, cup his strong jaw.

  She also wanted to pull him up a teensy bit faster. Her breasts were throbbing with need, her nipples scraping almost painfully against the rough, starched blouse—part of her phony uniform. And having his mouth on her skin, his breaths blowing hotly against her, all she could think about was how incredible his tongue felt on other parts of her anatomy.

  But she could do nothing: couldn’t hurry him, couldn’t touch herself to provide some relief. She could only lie there, silently begging with every quiver of her body.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, and there was laughter in his voice.

  She faked it. “Not a thing.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure.”

  He moved up again. One inch closer to where she needed him to be. Or one inch farther from where she needed him to be. She honestly couldn’t decide.

  Well, of course she could. She wanted both. Wanted him sucking her nipples and also giving her the kind of mind-blowing oral sex that she’d had erotic dreams about for weeks. “Please…”

  He moved again, this time his slightly roughened cheek scraping the bottom curve of her breast. His lips followed, kissing away the irritation, and she flinched with the close contact to her sensitized nipples.

  Finally the right button. He looked down on her and shook his head. “No bra? Is that standard uniform attire, Officer?”

  She twisted, trying to push her nipple toward his mouth, needing him to suck and squeeze and twist.

  “Your breasts are a work of art,” he mumbled, dropping his aloof act.

  She didn’t totally agree, always feeling at least a cup size less adequate than most women. But they were pretty, nicely shaped and high. Plus her nipples had so many nerve endings it was a wonder she didn’t come when she wore a silk blouse.

  “Suck me, Reese,” she begged.

  “That an order?” He pulled farther away, deliberately tormenting her.

  “Let’s call it a polite request.”

  “Well, since you’re being polite.”

  He said nothing else, gave her no warning, merely bent to capture the taut tip between his lips. He sucked her once, then deeper, reaching up to catch the other mound in his hand.

  She cried out, her hips instinctively jerking toward his jean-covered legs. Twisting her thigh over his, she tugged him closer, gaining satisfaction from the brush of his jeans against her sex.

  She was all nerve endings, all sensation, and between the deep, strong pulls of his mouth on her nipple and the rub of his strong, masculine thigh between her legs, she felt herself begin to climax. The wave began, and she let out a hitchy little cry.

  Reese moved suddenly, removing all that physical connection. He covered her mouth with his, swallowing down the sound with a kiss. And the orgasm dissipated like morning fog baked away by the rising sun.

  “Not yet,” he whispered. “Not just yet.”

  Oh, God. She was going to kill him. “Paybacks are hell,” she snapped.

  “Yeah, I know.” He moved his mouth to her neck, sucking her skin into his mouth and biting her lightly. “Consider this a payback for November 11th.”

  Oh. Yeah. The day she’d kept him on the brink of climax but hadn’t let him go over the edge until she was good and ready.

  “Can I just cry uncle, say you win and take my orgasm now, please?”

  “Nope.”

  Damn. She’d been afraid of that.

  Reese was as good as his word. For the next hour, he tormented her, delighted her, toyed with her, thrilled her. There was magic in the man’s hands and heaven in his mouth. And he used those hands and that mouth on every last inch of her.

  Her shoulders became sore from twisting around on the bed while her arms were restrained above her head. But, to be honest, Amanda didn’t mind. There was something incredibly freeing about being at the sexual mercy of someone she trusted completely. There was no quid pro quo, no reciprocity. She just had to lie there and let him give her pleasure, just take, take, take and not feel one bit of guilt about it.

  It wasn’t until she was sobbing with the need to come that Reese finally decided to grant her an orgasm. He’d been moving his mouth and tongue across her groin, her upper thighs and the outer lips of her sex, but not lingering long enough. Finally, though, perhaps hearing the sobs of pleasure mingled with frustration, he did linger.

  Oh, did he linger.

  Swirling his tongue over her clit, he flicked and sucked, then upped the intensity by moving a hand to her swollen lips. He wet his finger in her body’s moisture, then slid it into her. Then another, moving slowly, deeply.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “More, please.”

  He gave her more. More pressure, more suction, more delicate stabs of his tongue. And he began to withdraw his fingers, then plunge them in again, filling her as best he could until he could use the part of his anatomy she really wanted.

  “Oh, God, finally!” she cried as the waves of pleasure erupted. Nothing could have held them back this time. Her body had reached its very peak of sexual arousal and the explosion that rocked her seemed to last for a solid minute. She almost had an out-of-body experience, she was so in its grip.

  By the time it finally released her, she realized Reese had moved away long enough to strip out of his clothes. His erection was enormous, looking bigger somehow, as if seeing her so entirely lost had aroused him more than he’d ever been before.

  He paused only long enough to pull on a condom, then moved between her splayed thighs. Amanda immediately tilted up to greet him, wrapping her legs around his hips, wanting him as deep as he could possibly get.

  They knew each other now. Knew what they wanted, what they liked, what they could take. So there was nothing tentative, no gentle easing like there’d been the first time, when he’d almost seemed worried he might hurt her.

  This time, Reese drove into her in one thrust. Though she was dripping wet and took him easily, Amanda let out a little scream of pleasure. He filled her thoroughly, stretching out a place for himself, making her wonder how she withstood the emptiness when he wasn’t inside her.

  She wanted her hands free, wanted to wrap them around his neck and hold on tight. But he was too hungry for her to consider asking him to pause to find the keys.

  Oh, what the hell.

  Amanda didn’t even think about it. She easily slid her hand out of the left cuff, twisted the right and tugged that one free, too. Reese had been so tender and sweet about it, not wanting to hurt her, that he hadn’t fastened the damn things tightly enough.

  His eyes flared in surprise when she lifted her hands to his thick, broad shoulders. “Sneaky woman.”

  “You don’t have to be gentle,” she
told him, not just referring to the cuffs.

  “I know.” His eyes glittered as he withdrew, then slammed back into her, hard, deep, almost violent.

  Nothing had ever felt so good. Nothing. Not ever.

  Amanda raked her nails across his back. Wanting even more, she tilted farther until her legs were so high, he took them and looped them over his shoulders. “Yes, yes….”

  Smiling down at her, Reese bent to catch her mouth in another hungry kiss. His warm tongue thrust deeply against hers, catching the rhythm of his thick member moving in and out of her body. She matched both movements, taking everything, giving it back again. Until finally, in a lot shorter time than he’d allowed for hers, he came close to reaching his own ultimate level of fulfillment. She knew, by his hoarse groans and the strain on his face, that he was almost there.

  Not willing to be left behind, yet not wanting to give up one centimeter of that deep possession, she reached down between their bodies, rubbing at her most sensitive spot with her fingertips. Reese looked down, and she followed his stare. It was incredibly erotic, seeing her fingers tangled in her curls, and below, his big, thick cock disappearing into her.

  The sights, the sounds, the weight of him, the smell of him, and, oh, the feel of his body joined with hers…all combined to drive her up to that ledge again. And once he saw she was right there with him, Reese brought them both as high as they could possibly go…and then just a little bit further.

  THOUGH THEIR PREVIOUS encounters had, literally, been one-nighters, this trip to Daytona was actually going to last two. Amanda had booked the hotel room through Sunday, and Reese wasn’t about to ask her why. She again wanted to change the terms of their…whatever it was. Well, that was just fine with him. Double the pleasure, double the fun.

  Problem was, by Saturday afternoon, he could see she was beginning to regret it. Her smiles were forced. She kept averting her gaze during their brief talks. And whenever he began any kind of real conversation, she tried to seduce him.

  Not that he minded being seduced. Seriously. But he was only human and while the mind was willing, his dick was just about worn-out after six or seven rounds of cops and robbers.

  Amanda had even resisted going out to eat, having filled the small fridge with food before his arrival. He knew without asking that she was remembering their dinner at the Italian place in Cleveland. Her aversion to anything that looked, smelled or sounded anything like a date had come through loud and clear. He didn’t know why she felt that way—how could he?—but the message had definitely been received.

  Still, he’d had enough of grapes and cheese. Not to mention enough of her skittishness about doing anything that didn’t involve some part of his anatomy connecting with some part of hers. And that was why, at three o’clock Saturday, he put his foot down, insisting they get out of the hotel room and actually see the ocean they could hear pounding right outside their window.

  “I didn’t bring a bathing suit,” she muttered as he nudged her toward the door.

  “I didn’t, either. The water’s not exactly swimming temperature, is it?” Though, judging by the clear blue sky and blazing yellow sun he could sort-of see through the tired, smudged windows, he figured it had to be as hot as a typical summer day in Pittsburgh. “A walk on the beach doesn’t require special clothing. And I might be lucky enough to find a hot dog vendor or something. Because if I have to eat nothing but cheddar cheese for the rest of the day, I’m going to fly to Vermont and shoot someone.”

  Though a grin pulled at her mouth, she visibly subdued it. With her brow tugged down, she looked like someone trying to get out of some difficult chore. “Fine. We’ll walk.”

  “You know, if I hadn’t already seen just how daring you can be, I’d have to conclude you were a total chickenshit.”

  Her eyes flared wide in surprise. “What did you call me?”

  “You heard me,” he said with a shrug.

  “I’m not afraid of the beach,” she insisted.

  He’d lay money she intentionally misunderstood. “I didn’t say you were.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  Putting a hand on her elbow, he led her out the door while she was distracted being all pissed off. “I’m just wondering something. Are you scared that if you take your hands out of my pants for too long, you might actually start to like me?”

  Her face flushed, but, as he’d figured, she kept on walking, now challenged more than anything else.

  It took a full minute for her to respond. As they crossed the wooden planking over the dunes and stepped down onto the sandy beach, she finally muttered, “I don’t dislike you.”

  “Progress.”

  She fell silent again while they stopped to kick off their shoes. As he’d suspected, it was blazingly hot out, at least fifty degrees warmer than it had been yesterday in Pittsburgh. While he definitely could appreciate the warmth, he honestly didn’t think he’d ever actually enjoy living someplace like this. Wearing shorts while watching football on Thanksgiving day just sounded wrong on all kinds of levels.

  Carrying their shoes, they made their way down toward the water. They skirted the pasty-skinned sun-bathers, on vacation from cold northern cities, who were sprawled on colorful towels and slathered with lotion. Only when the warm ocean surf lapped at their feet did they turn and proceed north.

  Heading away from the hotels, the beach grew less and less crowded. Soon the voices of shouting kids, radios and gabby teenagers had disappeared. There was nothing but the churning of the waves, the hiss of the breeze and the squawk of overhead seagulls. And the very loud silence of his companion.

  It was probably a good ten minutes before Amanda said a thing. When she did, it was in a whisper he could barely hear above the strong lapping of the surf against his ankles.

  “I actually like you a lot, Reese.”

  He said nothing, just reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. He’d touched her in so many ways, but this was, as far as he could recall, the first time he’d simply held her hand.

  Amanda had such a strong, confident personality, he sometimes forgot how feminine she was. Her slender hand, delicate fingers and soft palm reminded him that, despite the swagger and the attitude, she was still vulnerable. More than she’d ever want anyone to realize.

  “I probably like you too much already.” She sounded as though she’d just admitted to liking tuna-and-peanut-butter sandwiches.

  “I wish I could say I understand why that’s such a bad thing.”

  “I told you I didn’t want anything serious.”

  “Who said liking each other meant we were about to exchange rings?”

  She stopped, but didn’t pull her hand away. Tilting her head back to look up at him, she pushed her sunglasses up onto the top of her thick hair, as if wanting to ensure he understood what she was about to say. He did the same, seeing confusion in her green eyes.

  “Here’s the thing. I am poison when it comes to men and relationships. My name might as well be Ivy.”

  He didn’t laugh, knowing she was dead serious. She really believed what she said. “Why do you think that?”

  “Because I’ve been told that. I break hearts and hurt people, Reese.”

  “Intentionally?”

  Her brow furrowing in confusion, she shook her head slowly. “No, I suppose not. But what difference does that make?”

  Leaning down, he pressed his lips onto her forehead, kissing her tenderly. There was nothing sexual in it, just warmth and a bit of consolation for this beautiful woman who seemed to see herself so differently than the way he saw her.

  “It makes all the difference in the world,” he murmured.

  She remained stiff, unyielding. “Not to the guys whose hearts I’ve broken.”

  “Armies of them, I suppose?”

  She wasn’t teased out of her dark mood.

  “Platoons?” Reese put his arms around her shoulders, tugging her against him, making her take the support and connectio
n she tried so hard to resist. “Squads?”

  “I don’t know how big those things are,” she mumbled into his shirt, her voice sounding a little watery.

  He didn’t tease her, didn’t pull back to see if those really were tears dampening the front of his shirt or just the misty spray off the ocean.

  “I don’t, either. And I honestly don’t care.”

  He meant it. He was a grown man, and she’d warned him from the get-go. He could take care of himself.

  He only wondered if she was really as tough as she tried to make herself out to be, or if all these protestations and fears were more about protecting her own heart than anyone else’s. Not that he was about to say that out loud. Not when she had, at last, seemed to let down her guard, at least a little bit.

  “Let’s just go with this—no more rules, no more walls. And see where it takes us. Okay?”

  No answer. Instead, quietly, slowly, she relaxed against him. After a few moments, she even slid her arms around his waist, holding him, if not tightly, at least comfortably.

  They stood that way for a long while, on the edge of the water, with the waves splashing against their legs. And in the quiet stillness of the moment, he felt the tension leave her, felt her give up some of the control she’d been trying so very hard to maintain.

  And finally she murmured, “Okay.”

  He didn’t respond or react in any way, knowing the decision had been a difficult one for her to make. He also knew they’d just agreed to something that could end up not working at all.

  Because what was happening between them was unpredictable, as uncontrollable as the currents sending the salty ocean water splashing over their feet. He didn’t know where they were going or how long it would take to get there. Or how long they’d stay.

  He was just glad Amanda had finally appeared to decide to continue the journey with him.

  6

  December 7

  SEEING THE NUMBER ON HER caller ID as it rang very late one weeknight, Amanda almost didn’t answer the phone. Not because she didn’t want to talk to Reese, but because she did want to…a little too much.