Erin McCarthy - It’s About Time

“And I…want…you.”

Her carefully painted nails dug into her mussed, but still stylish, hair as she went up and down with frantic thrusts.

Caleb held the small of her back, fought to keep his eyes open. “You’ve got me, gorgeous.”

She was smooth, slick over him, pushing herself down so hard that he went deep inside her, and the little bud of her clitoris pressed into his pelvis. It was almost too much, too fast, sensation winging through him, and he knew he couldn’t stand that hot, wet friction much longer.

But without warning, Trish dropped her hands onto his chest, eyes wide, and convulsed against him in an urgent orgasm, so damn sexy that Caleb gave up holding off and joined her.

He heard his own moan rushing past his ears, forced himself not to maul her too hard as his body jerked in its release, hard and satisfying. It went on for a good, long, hot minute, and when he finally relaxed back against the pillow, exhausted and satisfied, Trish gave a throaty laugh.

“My sentiments exactly.” And she draped herself across his chest with a sultry sigh.

While he liked having her there, he knew he was sweating, and probably smelled rank. He gave her a gentle nudge. “You don’t want to lay on me, I’m all sweaty.”

“So?” Trish played with the ends of his hair and yawned. “After we take a nap we can hop in the shower together.”

With an enticing little lift of her hips she moved off of him, then resettled on his thigh. “But first, I have to sleep. It’s hard to settle into good REM sleep when you’re orgasming.”

Caleb laughed and wrapped his arm loosely around her. But instead of sleeping, he tugged off the pink condom and listened as Trish’s breathing evened out. Wonder stole over him at how amazing she was, and how right she felt in his arms.

Trish was fascinating. She didn’t care that he was sweaty, she talked casually about her sex dream, and already had a shared shower planned.

He liked it.

Sleeping across a hard, naked man was therapeutic. Trish woke up rested and satisfied, more relaxed than she’d felt in months. She stretched her legs and snuggled back into his chest, glancing up to check him out. Caleb, the little cutie, was still asleep, a small snore emitting from his mouth.

Trish really thought he was just absolutely adorable, which struck her as funny. The man was huge, and yet she was constantly pulling out adjectives likecute,sweet, andadorable to describe him. But he was.

He was probably one of the nicest guys she’d ever met, which maybe didn’t say much for the company she’d been keeping. But Caleb was just a good, solid, loyal kind of guy who worried that he might hurt her, and she might be interested in exploring where the whole thing could go beyond her bedroom.

Except that she didn’t cook, didn’t own anything appliqué, was ambivalent about children at this point, and worked relationship-killing hours. Not exactly marriage-making material.

So that left her this morning to enjoy Caleb.

She tickled his ribs.

He jerked in his sleep, making an “unnnn” sound of protest, but didn’t open his eyes.

Trish shifted a little, found his penis, and stroked it.

This jerk was enough to almost knock her off his chest. Green eyes locked with hers. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you a hand job.” That hadn’t been her original intent, but he felt pretty dang good beneath her fingers. “But I’ve been going for like ten minutes now and my hand’s tired,” she teased. “So I’d better stop.”

He groaned. “Next time, wake me up first so I can enjoy it.”

Next time. The fact that it pleased her to think there would be one had her sitting up, annoyed with herself. She’d just given herself theGet A Grip lecture and here she was, already fantasizing about waking up like this with Caleb every day.

Yet she couldn’t quite make herself pull her hand off of him, not since he’d grown gratifyingly hard. Then Caleb sat up next to her. “Can you hold that thought, gorgeous?”

He shifted out of her touch. She was momentarily miffed until he yawned and rubbed his hand over his stubbly chin. “I really want to revisit what you’re doing in like two minutes, but first…where’s your bathroom?”

“To the right. Want me to make some coffee?”

He smiled and cupped her cheek. “That would be great, thanks.”

Then he stood and walked across her bedroom toward the door, gloriously naked, muscles rippling. Was it her imagination or had her ceilings shrunk? He filled her apartment and made it seem small, poky. She’d lived there two years and was really happy with the place. She had two bedrooms and an office, lots of windows and extensive woodwork and molding, which had all been painted white, setting off her red furniture to advantage. But the minimalist decorating and the sharp edges screamedsingle woman to her, for some reason, and Caleb looked odd surrounded by her things. He needed sturdier furnishings. Pine, cedar.

Trish dug a pair of red boy-short panties from her burgeoning lingerie drawer and pulled them on, along with a tight white T-shirt that claimedANGEL across the front. She had ordered it at Ashley’s Pleasure Party and had meant to check the box “Princess,” but somehow had checked the one below it and had wound up “Angel.” Which wasn’t exactly something she aspired to. But Ashley had given her crap when she’d asked to exchange it, so she’d have to be an Angel.

She rescued the condoms from the floor where they had dropped and set them on the nightstand. Just in case. Easy access. Then at the last minute tucked another one in the waistband of her panties. She liked to be prepared.

Caleb appeared in the door. He glanced at her chest. “Angel?” he asked dubiously.

Trish tried to move around him, but he blocked the whole damn door. “Yes. I’m an Angel, through and through. Pure as the driven snow. Now move your big body so I can make the coffee.”

“Give me a kiss first, Angel,” he said, and lifted her up, straight off the floor.

Trish dangled in the air like a slutty puppet. Her T-shirt rode up, panties likewise. Her hands were pinned against his chest, and even though she felt ridiculous, she had to admit she was impressed with his strength. He wasn’t even straining to hold her.

She laughed. “Put me down, you oaf.”

“Kiss me first,” he ordered, nuzzling in her neck.

“I can’t with your mouth down there.”

“Got an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“Never doubt it.”

He lifted his head, stared at her, his mouth inches from hers, waiting. Trish forgot about the coffee.

Dragging her tongue across his bottom lip, she maneuvered her arms around his neck. Then slowly, slowly nibbled her way across his hot mouth while her legs drew up and locked around his waist.

Over and over she licked, tasted, touched across his mouth, while his breathing grew hitched and his grip on her hard and tense. Trish rocked forward, bumping his erection with the apex of her spread thighs, drawing a shaky groan from both of them.

Still she didn’t give him the kiss, just rubbed and sucked and tormented until her nipples ached and her clitoris throbbed and she wanted him so very, very bad. Then she kissed him, her tongue pressing hot and hard into his mouth, demanding, claiming, ordering him to respond.

He did, matching her tongue thrust, gripping her ass, grinding her against him.

Drowning in desire, Trish fumbled for the condom in her panties. She held it up as he bent over her, shoved her shirt up, and pulled her nipple into his mouth. Hard. Rougher than anything she’d seen from Caleb yet. And it turned her on, to see him let go, forget to hold back.

“I bet you’re strong enough,” she murmured into his ear, “that we could do it just like this, standing up.”