Dusk Until Dawn Page 6

  When he put her down on the couch, he stood up and she almost came from the look on his face. His mouth was red from where she’d been biting at him. Welts from her nails digging into his shoulders. And his cock tapped his belly; sweet Lord.

  He bent over the coffee table, where he’d placed a box of condoms. Large ones. There was a box of twelve, and she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to try to use all of them that night. The idea of him using them with some of his supermodel super-friends made her want to use teeth when she finally got his cock in her mouth. But her vagina wanted to cry at the idea of having sex with him that many times in one night, so she’d have to stop caring about the rest of those condoms. And she still wasn’t coming back for more.

  He pulled one off a strip and put it back down. Organized, efficient, so he wouldn’t have to fumble around for it later. That was one of the things she’d always liked about him. He gave the appearance of laziness, but it was really extreme efficiency.

  She drew her knees up and nodded toward the condom. “Are you going to go down on me, or are you going to cheat and let Mr. Big Dick do the work for you?”

  He laughed. “Are you going to joke around all night, or are you going to open your legs so I can get to work?”

  He didn’t wait for her reply; he peeled open her legs and perched her feet on his shoulders in one, smooth motion. His hands bracketed her pussy, and he didn’t hesitate. He didn’t tease her. No, he took advantage of the fact that she’d drawn things out early, the fact that she wasn’t sure if she hated him or loved him, and drove her up so fast and hard with his mouth that she let out an unintelligible moan/scream that echoed against the cement walls.

  That sound just fueled the fire, and he sucked her clit into his mouth. Her legs seized up, pulling him closer. She dug her fingers into his hair so hard that she would likely come away with clumps of it if he didn’t make her come soon.

  He worked two of his blunt fingers into her and rubbed her g-spot. He found it like a goddamned champion. Her body writhed and fought to take him in deeper, and he kept sucking harder. She should probably have checked to see if he was breathing, but until he gave her an orgasm, she wasn’t entirely sure she cared.

  Her orgasm started small, like a tiny leak in a dam. But it grew fast and out of control. When she finally had her release, it rushed through her, flooding everything. The pressure grew too much, too fast. Her moans became full-on screams, but she had the presence of mind to bite back the tears that threatened.

  He hadn’t touched her emotions, not really. He was that good at eating pussy.

  And he knew exactly when to stop. When she opened her eyes, he was sitting back on his knees. Her feet were still propped up on his shoulders. His dick was still hard, but his face was slack and satisfied.

  Both of them were sweaty. She was so fucked.

  * * * *

  Javi wanted to beat his chest and strut around his apartment naked, but that wouldn’t get the job done. He licked his lips before he wiped off his stubble with his palm. With the other hand, he stroked Maya’s inner thigh. Her skin was so soft. And she tasted every bit as good as he’d imagined.

  It was a good thing that he’d gotten her off so fast, or he would have come all over his couch. He needed to get her to make that sound again. That desperate keening was like discordant, Nordic music that shouldn’t work, but did.

  Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and her skin was sweaty, and his dick needed to be inside her in the next ten seconds.

  Fuck me until I forget you’re an asshole.

  He ripped open the condom wrapper; she sat up and looked while he rolled it on. Her feet hit the floor and her breasts swayed into his face. He couldn’t resist taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking until her body jerked.

  Her involuntary sounds and movements, the ones she couldn’t hide behind her walls—the anger, the impulsive outbursts, the posturing—made him happy. The real Maya was wide open to him.

  He crawled on top of her, grabbed her ass, and rolled them over to the chaise part of the sectional couch. She might think he was a snob, but he was glad he had a couch big enough for a Roman orgy. So he could spread her long limbs and gorge her in total comfort.

  After getting a taste of her, he certainly wasn’t about to let her go. She wouldn’t give him a chance to make this real. And he wasn’t worth it. Maybe he had been at some point, but not now. He would only hurt her if this turned into something real. But he could still make her feel good.

  He hiked her legs up over his hips with his thighs and sunk inside her a little bit. Her moan was breathy and lacked the intensity from before. But it still came out like it had surprised her.

  He rocked into her a little bit deeper and her fingernails made new grooves in his shoulder muscles. If she wanted to bloody him, she could go for it. This was both his confession and his absolution. He’d do his penance in orgasms if he had to, holding off on his own pleasure.

  “Harder. I’m not glass.” She punctuated her words with her feet flexing against the back of his thighs. He’d always thought his dick was the most important erogenous zone, but everywhere Maya touched set him on fire as if she had a direct line to his balls from anyplace on his body.

  He did her bidding and picked up his pace, their bodies snapping together faster and faster. Her lithe body was so agile that she didn’t even need leverage to meet his rhythm. Like she was made for him. Because she was. And he was a stupid, miserable prick who would only get to have this once.

  As he plunged inside her, his balls tightened and something in his chest caught. Actually being inside this woman brought the gravity of his mistake home. He’d done this. He’d cost them both this for years. He could have been fucking this woman all along.

  He knew what he was about in bed. He loved fucking, and made sure his partners did, too. But this was more. It was as if his life was on the line with every stroke, every groan, every drop of sweat. He was on the edge of his control when he bit into the tendon in her neck, which set her off.

  She spasmed around him. He continued fucking her to the beat of her release until his own caught him almost by surprise. It came up his spine and rocked his whole body. He might have gone blind for a split second, but for the fact that he couldn’t stop looking at Maya underneath him.

  Perfect.

  Even as he pulled out to take care of the condom, he lowered his lips to hers. He tossed the used prophylactic on the floor; he’d take care of it later. Right now, he needed more skin-to-skin contact. It was weird. He wasn’t a cuddler. Karrie hadn’t been a cuddler either. Nor had she been into hot, sweaty sex. At least not with him.

  Sometimes, he wondered if she’d been punishing him for not loving her enough, if she’d suspected that he was holding something back, so she’d held back even more.

  Javi had held back nothing with Maya, and he didn’t know if he could pull himself away from her now. But he couldn’t say that. She’d be out of his apartment and his life so fast, he wouldn’t be able to get another word out.

  Before he could say anything stupid, she shoved at his shoulder and said, “You’re still an asshole, but I need food before you get another crack.”

  Chapter 6

  A man could totally be too good at sex. Sex with Javi was so good that it was going to melt her brains. He was like a sex zombie. A sexy sex zombie. When she started to laugh at the image in her head of Javi’s dick asking for more brains, she knew that the sex zombie apocalypse had started.

  “What’s so funny?”

  They were sitting and drinking wine out of juice glasses along with the sushi that Javi had ordered in.

  “Nothing.” She wanted to hide her face from him; she wasn’t used to anyone looking at her the way he did. There was definitely sex in his gaze, but there was also something else. Interest? “Smart to order sushi. Like you knew I was going to jump your bones as soon as I walked through the door.”

  “I knew I was going to wa
nt to jump your bones as soon as I saw you. That’s how it’s always been.”

  “Why didn’t you?” She knew the answer to that question. Without a doubt. She was not who he pictured himself with long term. She should be grateful that he hadn’t humiliated her before. She’d had enough to deal with then—bartending, putting herself through school, growing as an artist. No, she’d done the humiliating to herself with one impulsive declaration. She could take his inevitable rejection now. She was a grown-ass woman.

  He shrugged. She wanted to kill him, but first she wanted to draw the way his muscles moved under his skin. She wanted to record him fucking his fist, so she could get the way he moved on a canvas in an abstract way. No one but her would know that it was him. But she would know, and remembering the way he moved would make her feel greedy every time she saw it.

  How many times had she conjured up an image of Javi shirtless when sketching? Her old drawings would have to go in the trash because they were nothing in comparison to the real thing in nothing but a pair of low-riding grey sweatpants.

  “Would it have been any different had I said something—you know—about how I felt earlier?”

  Javi had started dating Karrie right before they met, before that first night he came into the bar and they hit it off. She’d wanted him to ask her out, even though she was pretty sure she wasn’t his type. It hadn’t mattered though; she’d felt a zap of energy between the two of them, and she’d forgotten all the reasons that he wouldn’t see her as good enough. For a while. But then, he’d brought up the girl he was seeing.

  “How much sooner?”

  “Like, a year and a half.”

  He let it hang there and turned his back. The sushi threatened to come back up, and she regretted coming over, and thought about leaving before he responded. “It would have made a difference.”

  “We would have been together?”

  He turned back to her and put more sushi on her plate. “I don’t know. I probably would have fucked things up. I messed things up with Karrie.”

  “How?”

  “You believe I didn’t cheat on her, right?” He crossed his arms over his chest. His hairy chest that she wanted to nuzzle and bite his nipples and make him hiss and growl at her.

  “I didn’t think you would.”

  “I wanted to. That night with you.” His words kind of floored her. She hadn’t been expecting him to admit that he’d wanted her that much, that he was tempted to compromise his integrity for her. “I was so far down the road. We’d met the families; everyone got along. Everyone wanted it.”

  “Even you?” She wanted him to say “no,” but she also didn’t think that he would marry a woman he didn’t love at all.

  “Yeah, but you knew that I had doubts.” He pulled his hair behind him to the nape of is neck. “I was kind of mad at you for saying something. You should have said it sooner, much sooner. And you knew we had problems, that we weren’t perfect.”

  “I didn’t know if you were dense or if you were dangling it in front of my face.” His complaints about Karrie had hung in front of her like ripened fruit; all she’d had to do was pick.

  He winced. “I don’t know either. A little bit of both.”

  “It wasn’t fair. And it made me not trust you. It made me not trust myself around you. You know, even though my mom was the other woman for years, I respected your relationship.”

  Unlike some of her arty friends, Maya had never been down with the poly, wishy-washy thing. She might have a trail of lovers in her wake, but she was strictly about one-at-a-time. Javi’s confessions about his problems with Karrie had been the only thing that ever tempted her to encroach on another person’s relationship. “Telling me about your doubts made me want to blow it up. And, you know I couldn’t do that.”

  He scooted his bar stool next to her and the heat from his body melted some of the cold that had settled in her bones during the conversation. Maybe they’d both fucked up. She hadn’t told him the truth about how she’d felt in time for him to do anything about it. He hadn’t had the balls to have a real talk conversation with her about where he was at.

  They were both cowards.

  And maybe telling him that he could only have one night—now that they were both free—was the most cowardly thing of all.

  Just sitting next to him, even re-hashing all of their difficult feelings didn’t extinguish her desire for him. The fact that she could touch him, wherever and however she wanted, was a rush. Just like making him undress for her was. The fact that he belonged to her right now killed her appetite.

  She took a final sip of wine, swallowed, then kissed a mark on his shoulder. “I think I need to fuck you now until I’m not an asshole.”

  He smirked at her as she ran her hand down his stomach. He dropped his chopsticks as soon as she reached his waistband. She didn’t reach in and grab his cock right away, she ran her hand over his hard on, through his clothes, until it jumped. She learned it, ran a fingertip over the head through the dense cotton.

  His fingers gripped the countertop and she could hear his teeth grinding from trying to restrain himself. She could practically smell his urge to put her on her knees and fuck her face riding on the air. And she wanted that, but not now. He could feel that, too.

  Even though, from the outside, they didn’t look like they belonged together. In addition to coming from different worlds, they were both alphas. People who didn’t know wouldn’t see that fighting for dominance was what turned them on. When he’d stripped for her earlier, he hadn’t been submitting, he’d been evaluating, pushing, watching and seeing where she was weak.

  “When I made you come the first time?” he asked.

  “I remember.” He panted when she squeezed his cock one last time before slipping her hand under his waistband and curling her fingers around his bare skin. “That sound you made almost made me come before I got inside you. Would have been embarrassing.”

  “Pobrecito, you would have gotten hard again for me. Your cock is a champion. No wonder supermodels take turns riding on it.”

  “Are you jealous?” There was a hint of humor in his strained voice. He’d shifted towards her a little, and she could tell he was ready to turn the tables, but she had a little more leeway, which she planned to use.

  “Why would I be jealous of brainless putas who need to call in reinforcements to get you off? There’s only one of me, and I’m going to wring you out until you have nothing left.”

  Then, he struck. He stood up, which knocked her hand out of his pants. He pulled her up by the arms and undid the buttons on the dress shirt she’d put on before dinner as he said, “You drive me nuts. You are jealous, so you won’t admit it. I see through your bravado and your name calling. And damned if I don’t love it. But it’s time for you to stop talking now, and I know the way to do it.”

  “Let me guess, you’re going to put me on my knees and make me take your cock.” She looked up at him, sticking out her bottom lip, acting like an innocent for show. She didn’t want to show him that his dirty talking fucking killed her. Damaged her brain cells, and made everything fuzzy. It took the starch out of her spine and made her want to fall at his feet.

  He collared her with one hand and stroked the side of her throat with his thumb. It was loose, dominant, but not threatening.

  “I can’t stop thinking of your pretty little mouth on my cock, and it seems like a good way for you to stop talking about the other women that I’ve been fucking. None of them are here. Right now, I can scarcely remember one of their names. I can still taste you at the back of my throat. And I like it that way. I want to give you the same. And you want it.”

  He slapped her ass with his other hand and released her. He didn’t have to say anything about what he wanted next, and she wanted to give it to him.

  She let the shirt drop to the floor and she bunched it up under her knees when she went down along with it. She looked up, rolled her eyes at him, and said, �
��Oh, please. Punish me with your cock in my mouth.”

  Chapter 7

  Maya’s mouth was so hot on his cock that he had to lock his knees to keep from them from buckling. Ever since he saw her again, for longer if he was being honest with himself, he’d been imagining what her smart, sarcastic mouth could do if she really put it to work on him.

  Nothing except fucking her was sweeter. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, but he couldn’t help looking down at her taking him in. So good. So good he lost it down her throat in minutes.

  And she swallowed it all up.

  It took a few minutes until he felt weird standing in his kitchen with his sweats around his ankles and his softening dick out and proud. As if she sensed his vulnerability, she pulled up his pants, tucked him away, and stood up gloriously naked.

  She grabbed his hand and something shifted in his chest. For the first time in a long time, he felt something more than momentary lust. He felt hope and warmth.

  He stared at her for long moments, as if she had grown a second head.

  “What? You look shocked. Do I have come dripping down my chin?”

  He shook out the cobwebs. “No. Nothing. I just want—”

  She tugged on his arm and tilted her head toward his bathroom. “I want a shower.”

  * * * *

  Javi wasn’t surprised that she didn’t stay until morning. Maya meant was she said. Always had. He loved that about her. He’d always loved and liked so much about her, but he couldn’t give up the sneaking suspicion that there was something fundamentally wrong with them together. And he hated himself for feeling like that.

  For feeling like he needed something else after waking up from a night of sex that felt like home.

  He flopped back on his bed. His entire body ached. She’d wrung him out and he relished it. His skin still smelled like her. After their shower, they’d taken the festivities to his bed. He’d tried to tire her out—hoped that she’d sleep until morning—but still he woke up alone.