Just a Taste [Private Relations 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 13

  Laughing, Sara said, “No?”

  Moving down to lie on the bed next to her, he slid under the covers.

  He fisted his hand in her hair, attacking her mouth with his. He moved his other hand to her breast, teasing her taut nipple until she whimpered. Easing back, he nibbled on her lower lip, then moved down her body, taking her nipple into his mouth.

  Moving his hand between her thighs, he stroked her until she began to roll her hips to meet his hand. Plunging two fingers into her tight channel, he found her more than ready for him. Rolling back over, he fished a condom out of the box that lay on the nightstand. Hands shaking slightly, he tore the package open, and rolled it on.

  Lying on his back, he grabbed Sara by the waist, roughly telling her to straddle him. Apparently feeling amenable to his request, she did so, positioning his cock at her opening, and sliding down to the hilt.

  They both groaned at the contact. Sara’s pussy was gripping him like a vise. He reached up to tease her nipples with his hands, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to last very long.

  Deacon moved his hands as she leaned forward to give him a slow kiss. Feeling her slide up and down his cock, he tried to think of anything but how good it felt. He really hoped she was getting some good friction on her clit, because he was about to fucking lose it.

  Sara’s breathing quickened and with each down stroke, she moaned.

  Knowing she was close, he grasped her hips and roughly said, “That’s it, Sara. I can feel you tightening around my cock. Fuck. You’re so warm and tight. You drive me fucking crazy. Come for me. I need you to come for me.”

  Her body responded to his words, and he felt her tighten around him, pulsating, crying out her release. Unable to hold back, he groaned her name and slammed his hips into hers a few more times, then followed her over the edge.

  Sara lay on him for a moment, pressing sloppy kisses against his neck, then rolled off him so he could go clean up.

  He sat up, moving toward the bathroom to get rid of the condom, then glanced at the clock and said, “Shit. It’s way later than I thought.”

  Flushing the condom, then washing his hands, he said, “I don’t mean to do this”—he gestured between them—“and then run, but I’ve got to catch a flight. The traffic to LAX is gonna be a bitch.”

  Seeing his pained look, Sara laughed and said, “You’ve been here since yesterday afternoon, so I know this wasn’t a drive-by fucking. You’re going to be late. Go.”

  Sara slid out of bed and stretched her arms above her head. Deacon watched her intensely, enjoying the way her breasts thrust out as she stretched her back.

  Looking back at him, her expression amused, she said, “Jesus, Deacon. Get dressed.”

  Grabbing her robe, she wandered into the kitchen and put a single serving French roast pod into her coffee maker. Once it was brewed, she put it in a travel mug. Adding two sugars, she stirred, then put the lid on.

  When he walked out of the bedroom, fully dressed, she wrapped her arms around him and said, “Have a safe flight. Let me know when you land.”

  He blinked at her when she reached to hand him the travel mug.

  “It’s French roast, two sugars,” she said.

  He grabbed her face, staring at her seriously for a moment then said, “I’m yours. Forever,” and kissed her loudly on the mouth.

  Laughing, she followed him to the door, unlocking it.

  He reached down once more to kiss her and said, “I’ll call you when I land. Have a good day.”

  Walking to the car, he unlocked it and tossed his bag into the passenger’s side seat. Sliding in, he gave her a wave, then turned on the ignition and backed out of the driveway.

  By the time Deacon landed in Albany it was 9:30 p.m. Having been delayed in Denver, his day had stretched on endlessly. By the time they were able to reroute his flight, it was almost three in the afternoon.

  Texting Sara he said, I made it to Albany. Gonna go check into my hotel, order room service, and pass out. Hope you had a good day.

  Pausing a moment, he added, Miss you already.

  Picking up his rental car, he drove to the hotel. He’d never been so happy to see a parking lot in his life. He was ready to eat and then pass out. He’d shower tomorrow. Twenty minutes later, he was under the covers, heat cranked up, watching HBO, waiting for room service when his phone buzzed.

  Sara responded, So glad you got there safely. I was starting to worry a little.

  Smiling, Deacon asked, Can you talk now?

  A moment later, she replied, Not for too long. I can take a break in a few minutes though. Should I call you?

  Deacon replied, No. Don’t worry about it if you’re wrapped up in something. Just gonna grab a sandwich and head to bed. Long day.

  Sara’s reply came immediately. Tough. I’m calling you in 15 minutes. :p

  Shaking his head, he set the phone down and answered the knock at the door. He had just polished off his sandwich when his phone rang.

  Picking it up, he said, “Hey.”

  “Hey, you. Bad flight?”

  Grumbling, Deacon explained the layover, the reroute, how, since he’d had to fly coach instead of business class, his knees hurt.

  Pausing, Sara said, “Oh. You’re grumpy. Sounds like you need to just crawl under the covers and sleep.”

  He could almost see that little smirk on her face as she said it.

  Sighing, he said, “It was a long day. I miss you already.”

  After a moment of silence, she said, “I miss you too. It’s gonna be strange not seeing you for four days.”

  The edges of his mouth twitching with a smile, he said, “Tomorrow I’m supposed to meet with the Albany Athletics. Not even sure what I’m doing here though. They have PR in house. Same thing with Saratoga Springs.”

  “It’ll be Friday before you know it. Then you’ll be back home, in your own bed.”

  “Speaking of the weekend, Chloe’s birthday thing is on Saturday. You didn’t forget, right?”

  “I didn’t. I need to go pick out a gift, but I don’t really know her. What do you think she’d want?”

  Smiling now, he said, “You don’t need to do that.”

  “I’m not going to the woman’s birthday party without getting her a gift, Deacon. That’s just plain rude!”

  “She likes smelly candles and you can’t go wrong with scrapbooking stuff. I can just put your name on my gift. Technically, you did help me pick it out.”

  “No no. I didn’t do anything of the kind. I just body blocked horny old ladies when you had to reach down to the bottom shelf. I’ll go get her something at Ye Olde Candle Shop.”

  Laughing, Deacon said, “Don’t mock. It was a scarring experience!”

  After a pause, he said, “I’m sure she’ll like anything you pick out.”

  With a mournful sigh, Sara said, “I need to get back to work.”

  “Have a good day tomorrow. Is this the bat mitzvah? Or the college thing?”

  “College thing. The bat mitzvah is Saturday. I’m doing prep but should be done by like 1:00 p.m. Enough time to go shopping for dinner supplies and stuff.”

  “You’re the best. Have I mentioned that?” Deacon asked.

  After saying their good-byes, he stuck the room service tray out in the hall, turned out the lights and passed out.

  By Wednesday, he had wrapped up his first two meetings. As he suspected, there wasn’t much point in them. Both teams had PR in-house. They were looking more for collaboration and use of some of their connections. He wasn’t really sure where they’d end up, but he was a little resentful that he had to come to New York for what could have been talked about on the phone.

  When Deacon finally made it into the city and checked into his hotel, it was almost 11:30 p.m. He was wiped out, and he missed Sara. Desperately. Realizing it was only 8:30 p.m. on the west coast, he called her.

  After a few rings, she picked up and said, “Wow. It’s late. Did you make it into the city okay?” />
  Grumbling, he said, “Yes, finally. The last couple of days were a total waste of time.”

  Running his hands through his already messy hair, he said, “I’m whining. Sorry. How was your day? Do you have time to talk?”

  “Yeah. I’m home for the night. Thank god. It was a long day. My focus was terrible.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I was thinking about you all day.”

  Raising his eyebrows, he said, “Oh really? Tell me more!”

  Laughing, Sara said, “Not like that. Okay, maybe a little bit like that, but mostly, just missing you.”

  Softly, he said, “I’ve missed you, too. We’ve seen each other almost every night for the last couple weeks.”

  Dryly, he added, “And for the record, I’m pretty much always thinking of you like that.”

  “Oh really? Tell me more,” Sara said, repeating his own words back to him.

  Grin stretching across his face, he settled back onto the bed and asked, “So, is this the part of the conversation where I ask you what you’re wearing?”

  After a moment, he heard her exhale, then softly say, “It could be.”

  He could picture the look on her face. Her biting her lower lip.

  “Of course, you understand what my next question has to be. So what are you wearing?”

  “A black tank top and a pair of black boy shorts with pink polka dots. You?”

  Closing his eyes for a minute, he imagined her, then asked, “Mmm. Where are you right now?”

  “Laying down in my bed.”

  Shifting, Deacon laid down on his hotel bed, and said, “Me too. My hotel bed, anyway. Navy-blue boxers.”

  Obviously interested, Sara said, “No shirt?”

  “Nope. Just a pair of boxers and a smile.”

  After a moment, Sara said, “You’ve got no idea how sexy your chest is, do you? One day I’d like to run my mouth over every inch of it.”

  Feeling a surge of pure lust, he said, “That feeling is entirely mutual. Your breasts and those perfect pink nipples. They drive me crazy. I could suck on them for hours. Would you touch them for me?”

  “Yes. I slid my tank top up just now.”

  He heard the phone being adjusted, then her slightly breathy voice saying, “I’m stroking them. They’re getting tight now. God, I wish these hands were yours.”

  Groaning slightly he said, “Fuck. Me too. That’s so hot. Cup your breasts and rub your thumbs over your nipples for me.”

  After a moment, he heard her breathing change as she complied with his request.

  Then she said, “Mmm. That feels good.”

  Hearing her begin to draw in shuddering breaths, he said, “Will you wet your fingers and pinch them for me?”

  After a sharp intake of breath, Sara was quiet for a moment, then continued, “Yes. I’m pinching them lightly now. Oh god. This is making me so fucking wet, Deacon.”

  Reaching down, he slid his boxers off and started to lightly stroke his cock.

  “Is it? Why don’t you put your hand in your panties and tell me just how wet you are, dirty girl?”

  After a slight laugh, he heard her comply, gasping at the intimate contact.

  “I’m soaked.”

  Giving a more audible groan this time, Deacon continued to stroke himself and asked, “Tell me how you make yourself come. Describe it for me as you’re touching yourself.”

  “I like to play with my clit. I’m rubbing slow, tight circles around it now with my index finger. Oh god, that feels so good.”

  Breathing a little more heavily now, Sara said, “Mmm. Tell me what you’re doing right now.”

  “Laying on my hotel bed, listening to your sexy fucking whimpers and stroking my cock. God, you’re so sexy, Sara.”

  Whimpering slightly, she said, “I wish these were your hands on my body.”

  Hearing her pant, he could tell she was getting more aroused.

  “Fuck, Sara. I want to slide my cock into that tight little pussy. Tell me you want that too.”

  Now whimpering with each pant, he heard her say, “Mmm. Yeah. When you first slide it in, I love how that feels. You filling me up, stretching me. I need you to slide your thick cock into me.”

  Biting back another groan, Deacon said, “You’ve got a filthy fucking mouth.”

  “It’s your fault,” she panted, heavily. “You make me an insensibly horny mess. I can’t help it.”

  Hearing that made him feel like a god. There was something incredibly arousing about the fact he could make this amazing fucking woman an insensible mess. He felt himself get even harder at the thought.

  Stroking faster now, he said, “Tell me that tight fucking pussy is mine, Sara.”

  On a moan, Sara mumbled, “Yes. Fuck. It’s yours. Only yours. Take it.”

  Hearing her so close to the edge, he began to stroke himself more roughly now.

  “Come for me, Sara. I need to hear you come for me.”

  Her breathing hitched slightly. Her whimpers became louder and more erratic.

  A few moments later, on a low moan, she said, “Fuck, Deacon. I’m coming.”

  Hearing her cry out in release, he let himself go, his orgasm jetting out all over the comforter of the bed.

  Gasping, he said, “Jesus Christ.”

  Then on a laugh he said, “Housekeeping is going to hate what I just did to this comforter.”

  Laughing, still slightly out of breath, Sara said, “Whoops.”

  The rest of his week went by in a blur. After the first two relatively fruitless meetings, he struck gold with the folks at Viacom. They needed to hash out some money details, but he left New York pretty confident that they had found a home for the talk show they had been shopping around.

  Sara had been slammed all week, so aside from their conversation Wednesday, they’d only been able to talk for a few minutes. He was excited at the prospect of seeing her again.

  Taking the red-eye after he finished his last meeting with Viacom, he didn’t get in until seven. Fueled on caffeine alone, he made it home and collapsed into bed after setting an alarm for noon.

  Feeling marginally more human, he took a shower and got dressed. Stretching out on the couch, he went through the mail that had piled up. Moving the important things to his desk, he threw away the bulk of it.

  About 1:15 p.m. his phone rang. Seeing it was Sara, he picked up.

  “Hey, beautiful.”

  “Hey. Welcome back!”

  “Thanks. Glad to be home.”

  Sara said, “Don’t hate me. I’m running about a half hour late. I should be to your place around like…2:30 p.m. Is that okay?”

  Grumbling, Deacon said, “This ruins my early afternoon plans, but okay. I guess.”

  “And just what did you have planned?” Sara asked, a smile in her voice.

  “You’ll have to find out later now,” he said, teasing.

  Chapter 15

  At 2:28 p.m., Sara buzzed Deacon’s apartment. Hearing his scratchy voice through the intercom, she smiled. After she identified herself, he buzzed her up. Knocking on his door, she had barely lowered her hand when the door opened.

  She yelped with surprise as he pulled her against him and attacked her mouth with his. Tilting her head back as he deepened the kiss, she twined her arms around his neck.

  When he backed away, she asked, “So that’s what you had planned?”

  His eyes darkening, he said, “No. What I had planned will have to wait until later. It’s going to take much more time than we have right now.”

  Her lips still brushing over his, she murmured, “Can’t wait.”

  Backing up so she could come inside, he took her overnight bag and the gift bag she carried. He moved it to the bedroom. Picking up his keys, he said, “My fridge is empty. We’ve gotta hit the grocery store.”

  Smiling, she said, “Figured as much.”

  He locked up, and they headed to the elevator. When they stepped inside, he pulled her into his arms,
and rested his chin on the top of her head. Wrapping her arms around his waist, Sara sighed happily and said, “I really missed you. I’m glad you’re back.”

  Kissing the top of her head, she heard him murmur, “Me too.”

  Despite their attempts to be quick, they ended up taking almost an hour in the store. By the time they got back, they had to immediately start on dinner in order for it all to be done on time. True to his word, Deacon did most of the work. Sara really just helped a little bit with the dessert.

  By 6:15 p.m., he said, “I’m gonna go change. People should be showing up in the next few minutes.”

  Laughing, Sara said, “I need to get ready, too. I’ve gotta change and try to do something with my hair.”

  He reached down to brush a kiss on her lips, then moved into the other room. Sara went into the guest bathroom with her purse and began applying makeup. Satisfied, she attempted to tame her hair into something presentable, then put it up in a clip.

  Walking into the bedroom, she went through her bag, grabbing her dress, and the strapless bra she brought, then started to change. Not hearing him come back into the room, she jumped when his arms slid around her naked waist. Leaning back into him when he pressed a row of kisses on her neck, she enjoyed the light stroking of his hands for a moment before saying, “Uh. Guests coming over soon.”

  Pulling back reluctantly, Deacon said, “Yeah. You’re right.”

  Hearing the intercom buzz, he said, “I’m gonna go get that,” and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  Finishing her wardrobe change quickly, Sara stepped out into the living room to find Chris had arrived. Feeling somewhat shy, she walked over to Deacon. Breaking off midsentence, Deacon said, “Wow. You look great.”

  Looking back at Chris, he said, “You remember Sara?”

  Smiling he said, “Hey. So you’re the person behind this suspiciously fancy meal?”

  Laughing she said, “No. I gave him the recipes and just supervised for the most part. He really did the work.”

  Deacon poured them both some wine, grabbed Chris a beer, and they moved to the living room to sit down. Chatting for a few minutes, Sara asked, “So, who’s coming tonight?”