Christa Wick: Curve Patrol

"Good, getting up early on a Saturday sucks." He pulled his side of the covers back and sat down.

Noah lifted his feet from the floor and slid his legs under the blanket. That would have been tolerable — him on one far side of the mattress, me on the other. Once he was covered, however, he started to roll and wiggle until his chest and stomach were pressed against my side. He draped his arm across my body, his hand curled around my shoulder.

"Baby, four years driving patrol and I freaked when the call came over the radio." His thumb stroked along the edge of my collarbone and then he did the unthinkable — he pressed his lips against my shoulder. "I kept thinking, what if the guy was trying to break in? What if he succeeded?"

His mouth on me, his thumb stroking my flesh, I could barely follow what he said. I tried to move away, letting him know the Peeping Tom was no big deal. "Nothing bad happened, Noah. And Mike wouldn't disown you if it had."

Lifting up on one elbow, he loomed over me. His body rigid as a steel rod, I had the feeling he was scowling at me. He took a deep breath in and then exhaled sharply.

"Patricia…" He only used my first name when he was teasing me or annoyed. Given the low growling rumble of his voice, I seemed to have pissed him off — at least a little. "You really think I don't have my own reasons for wanting you safe?"

When I didn't answer, he practically draped his body over mine. I could see the shadow of him above me, feel the brush of his hands along my side as he supported his weight on both arms. "Mike might be my best friend, but you're my other best friend, baby girl. Even if you're always trying to pull away…"

I didn't deny it. I had been trying to pull away for the better part of the last year. Maybe someday I'd learn how to be friends with him again — only after I had enough distance from him to fall in love with some other guy and not have it hurt when I saw Noah's latest conquest hanging on his arm or heard him calling her baby, but with a completely different meaning than when he used it on me.

"Patricia…" His voice rumbled in his chest. "Pattycake…baby-"

I pushed at his chest, exerting every last ounce of will power I had to keep my hands from sliding up and curling around his neck. I wanted to cry, but I also wanted to lift my hips, to feel just once what it was like to press against him so intimately.

"Move," I bit out.

"No." He lowered himself, his weight still off me as he leaned to one side. His free hand ran down my arm, stroked my thigh. "I need to feel you, make sure you're real and know I'm not going to wake up to some horrible nightmare where I got here too late."

He buried his face against my throat. Gripping my hip, he squeezed lightly. It was too much and I almost cried out. This was far beyond a concerned friend or him standing in for my absent big brother. I pushed at his hand but he only gripped me tighter.

"You don't get it, baby, do you?" His weight pressed against me, pinning me to the mattress as his hand moved higher up my side. Feeling the brush of his fingertips beneath the camisole, I gasped.

"Mike wants me to think of you as his little sister — hell, as my little sister." There was nothing brotherly about the next kiss he planted along my throat, just under my chin. His hand surged the rest of the way up my stomach to cup the underside of my breast. "But I can't. I heard the call over the radio and all I could think was mine. Mine to protect. Mine to…"

He lifted his head from my neck, never finishing the sentence. His mouth descended onto mine. Gently, he bit my lower lip. His body pressing harder against me, a groan erupting from him. His hand found my hip again, squeezing once before moving down to the top split of my thighs. His tongue trailing lightly along the seam of my lips, he started a slow, insinuating caress of my legs.

Shock and an undercurrent of pleasure jolted through me, my senses swirling. Not once had he ever shown the slightest interest. Sure, he changed the oil in my car, checked the pressure in my tires, fixed a dozen little things around the place, all without my asking. But he was just being a good friend.

"Baby, say something — your silence is killing me." Scooping the fabric of my bed shorts on one side, he pulled them tight. "Tell me you want this — want me."

He kissed me again, abandoning the soft exploration he had started with. Wedging his hand beneath my neck, he lifted, forcing my head back and my mouth open. The kiss deepened and I felt the first brush of his knuckles against the split of my labia.

I wanted him — had the wet thighs and madly throbbing pussy to prove it. But I didn't want to be another Noah Lodge one night stand.

"Say yes, Patty." Breaking the kiss, he surfed down my body, his hands caressing and molding my flesh with each inch traveled. His mouth stopped at my breast, wetting the fabric around the nipple with a slow, sucking kiss as his fingers tugged at my shorts.

I didn't say yes, neither could I say no. My body had taken up its own rhythm, moving when he moved, lifting to meet his hands and mouth as he stripped my shorts away and buried his face between my legs.

"So wet, baby. So very, very…" He stopped, his tongue laving my clit from up under the hood to the top of its length.

"Wet." He finished with a groan, his lips sealing tight around my flesh.

I was cresting, my hips starting a little dance as his tongue moved up and down my sex. My hands found his head. My fingers knotted in his short hair. I felt the slide of a finger inside me, then two more. I tightened around him, my body beginning to vibrate. I pressed his head tighter to my pussy, riding the heat and force of his mouth. My cunt pulsed, sharp contractions pushing cream from me as his fingers thickly sluiced in and out, turning and flexing to work me into a quick lather.

I cried out his name, pleasure twisting it into a soft mewl as the last thunder of my climax rolled through me. Noah surged back up the bed, his mouth claiming mine in a rough kiss. He'd shed his briefs and I felt the thick slide of his cock over my clit before he lifted his hips and sank into me with one sharp, toe curling thrust. He gripped my head with both hands, more rough kisses falling along my face and throat as his hips began to piston his cock inside me.

He was big, the head of his cock a hard pommel that pounded against my cervix. The beginning of another climax whipped through me. My hips jerked violently. Three gasps burst from me and then a shuddering moan as the contractions squeezed at my uterus. My clit bobbed rhythmically, pulling up with each clenching throb of my orgasm before relaxing.

"God, yes, baby, come for me again." He kept slamming into me, the force of each thrust a sharp contrast to the soft kisses that now whispered along my throat. He moaned my name, told me how hot and tight I was.

I squeezed at him, my cunt hugging the broad shaft and fat head of his cock. Every last inch of flesh felt like it was on fire as I lifted and slammed with him. The very air was ablaze, burning my throat and lungs as I drew in ragged breaths and tried to hold him tighter as my entire body exploded around him.

Noah slowed, his strokes elongating, and I knew he hadn't come yet, was far from finished as his hands began to soothe my flesh, sweet nothings falling from his lips as he cooed at me. He pushed the camisole up, exposing my breasts to his touch and the faint glow of the clock.

Arching his back, he curled around his center, his body contorted so his lips could tease my nipples. His hips took up a slow bouncing rhythm. His cock bobbed left, then right, before he sank balls deep into me.

Nothing comprehensible left my mouth, just long ecstatic moans as he fucked me slow and steady. I tightened around him, my pussy knotting and knotting until his cock felt as thick as a fist moving through me. Hurtling along the edge of another orgasm, I begged him to come with me.