Salted Caramel: Sexy Standalone Romance Page 8

  When we’d arrived back at the inn, there was a note from Coco that she had gone to take some goodies to her sister’s house and that she wouldn’t be back until late. The second Beck discovered that we had the place to ourselves, he’d sent me up to my room with some direct and not to be negotiated instructions. Who was I to cut short any prospect of unbridled, possibly kinky, sex with the man?

  I sat on the edge of my bed, freshly showered and rid of the road dust and, at Beck’s request, I was completely naked. I’d only been sitting there for five minutes, but my mind and body were already alive with anticipation of what might come next.

  Beck’s knock on my door startled me from my thoughts. “Come in.” I was covered with gooseflesh before he even opened the door.

  He stepped inside, wearing only his jeans. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he was holding strips of ribbon and a red bandana in his hand. Instinctively, I crossed my arms around my bare breasts. I hadn’t quite let go of those pesky inhibitions yet, even though I wanted nothing more than to lose them all when I was with Beck.

  Without a word and with a serious expression, one that was a cross between hunger and lust, Beck crouched down in front of me. He reached up and took hold of my hands and held them out to look at me, all of me. “I will never tire of seeing you naked, Emmie. Never. So don’t cover up when I walk into the room.” He lifted his mouth to mine and kissed me. “Ready for a little more fantasy?”

  I bit my lip, which was all the response I could muster. He knew I wanted this. He didn’t need to ask. He stood up. I dropped my head back to watch him reach full height. His shoulders nearly spanned the bed frame, and his hands suddenly looked even bigger than I remembered. Or it might have been the thin fluttery blue ribbons he was holding.

  I swallowed hard. “Do you want me to lie back on the bed?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. Stand up.”

  I stood in front of him. He motioned for me to turn around. He brought the red bandana up and tied it around my eyes so that I could see nothing. I’d never had any man tie a blindfold on me, but something told me it wouldn’t end there. He took a few moments to trail hot kisses along my neck and shoulder as I stood in front of him with my eyes covered and no idea what would come next.

  I felt him move away from me, taking all his luscious body heat with him. The bed’s distinctive creak was followed by some rustling of pillows. Then he was near me again. It wasn’t just the heat, my entire body could sense when Beck was close.

  He hadn’t even touched me yet, but my knees wobbled and my body tensed with expectation. Beck took hold of my hand and led me around the bed. He turned me and helped me up onto the mattress. I scooted forward on my knees and came up against a soft tower of pillows that had been positioned, it seemed, in the center of the bed.

  “Lean down over the pillows,” he directed, his voice gravelly rough and low. I complied and soon found myself resting on the mattress with my ass jutting up high in the air. I sucked in a startled breath as his hand took hold of my ankle. He moved my leg far to the side and tied the ribbon around it. I pulled my leg away instinctively.

  He held it firm. “Do you want to stop?” he asked.

  I gave it hardly a second of thought. “No.” I relaxed my leg as he moved it toward the corner of the bed and tied it to the end post. He did the same with the other leg. My legs were splayed wide open, and my ass was jutting in the air. And my eyes were covered. I was losing my nerve. I reached for the blindfold.

  “All bets are off, sweetheart, if you don’t play by all the rules.”

  I dropped my hand from the blindfold.

  The mattress moved as he leaned his body over and brought his face near mine. “I would never hurt you, Emmie. Never.”

  I nodded weakly. My heart raced as he moved back toward the end of the bed. My first instinct was to move my legs as he climbed between them. But they were bound to the bed. My pussy was completely exposed. I realized that I was wet with anticipation as he moved his body and brought his mouth against my inner thigh.

  My fingers had nothing to touch, so I clutched the sheets and relaxed my head against the bed, reveling in the tender kisses he trailed along my thighs. Even though my ass was high in the air, I found myself lifting it even higher, asking for his mouth to move to my pussy.

  He heard my silent plea. His strong hand reached beneath me, and his thumb flicked against my clit as his tongue licked along the folds of my pussy. His free hand ran along the crack of my ass, and, just as in the shower, he penetrated my ass with just enough force to make me clamp my muscles tighter around his hand and his mouth. His tongue dove into me again and again. I tried to move my legs, forgetting, temporarily, that he had me bound to the bed. There was something kinky but invigorating about the idea of being tied to the bed, unable to move freely. I was his to do with what he liked and that notion sent a thrill through me.

  “Oh, Beck,” I sighed as my fingers seized more of the bed sheet. I lifted my ass to meet the onslaught from his tongue and finger as he impaled every intimate part of me. My mind was a blur, and all I could focus on was where he touched me. He quickly brought me to orgasm. I cried out against the mattress as my body trembled.

  Before I knew what was happening, Beck was inside of me. His cock penetrated me while my pussy was still pulsing with the orgasm. He rocked against me, pumping himself deeper as he moved slowly, methodically. I had barely caught my breath when once again my body shook in spasms and my pussy tightened around him. He brought me to climax again.

  “Oh, Beck,” I cried out, nearly overwhelmed by it all. Slowly, the pulsating waves of pleasure diminished. As they did, Beck moved faster and harder against me, producing a tender but sweet ache in my pussy. My body was exhausted. I gripped the sheets as he thrust into me fast and hard.

  “Yeah, fuck yeah,” he groaned as he jammed his cock deeper one last time and came.

  Slowly, he pulled free and set about untying my feet from the bed.

  “Thank you. I’d hate to have Coco find me like this in the morning,” I said with a faint giggle.

  I pushed the blindfold off and squinted into the daylight filled room. I scooted the pillows up to the headboard and rested back. Beck stretched his long, hard body out next to mine.

  I kissed his shoulder. “That was amazing.”

  “Just want to make sure we don’t leave any of those fantasies unfulfilled.”

  I laughed. “Trust me, what you just did went way past any fantasy I’ve ever had.” I ran my fingers along his chest. “I’m a librarian with sensible shoes, after all.”

  “I’ll be looking at books a whole different way after this weekend.” He pulled me into his arms. “So, what else do we need to do to check off some of those wild daydreams?”

  I thought about the question and something snapped right into my mind. “Well, if you’re not busy tonight, I’d like to go back to the Hanky Dory. There’s something I’ve been wanting to do.”

  “As long as Hank isn’t still pissed at me, I think we can work that out. Does it have anything to do with playing pool?”

  “Nope, not pool. Just the dark corner table and this incredibly hot man stretched out next to me.”

  Chapter 18

  My hostess and resident mind-reader had somehow left a dress hanging from the hook on the door to my bedroom. I’d opened the door at least half a dozen times since we’d gotten home from the lake, and I had somehow neglected to notice the buttery soft purple dress. There was even a pair of chunky sandals to go with it. To go along with all the other unexplained happenings at the inn, it fit as if it had been handsewn just for me. It was a lot shorter and a lot snugger than I was used to, but the deep, plunging neckline and shimmery material was the perfect style for the outing.

  Of course, by the time the hour came around to leave for the Hanky Dory,
I’d spent a great deal of time questioning my decision to go through with it all. Then Beck, the central character in this particular fantasy, showed up at my bedroom door in a black shirt and jeans with his black leather jacket slung over his shoulder. His tattoos looked especially crisp and menacing, and his silver plugs gleamed in his ears.

  “Ready?” He stopped and glanced down at the dress. “That was a stupid damn question. How the fuck do you expect me to last through a pitcher of beer at the bar when you’re dressed like that, sweetheart? Hell, we might not even make it to the place.”

  I spun around once and cool air brushed my legs. “Like it? Coco left it. It’s like she lives in my head and knows everything I’m thinking.”

  “Yeah? How about me? Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”

  I tapped my chin, knowing full well that the tension in his jaw had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with me and the dress. I smiled. “Actually, I do know—and hold that thought.” I grabbed his hand and spun him around to follow me down the hallway. “You’re going to need it soon enough.”

  We walked down the stairs. “We could walk over to the Hanky Dory,” Beck suggested.

  “We could. As long as you don’t mind denying me another fabulous ride on that bike of yours. I’ll get over the disappointment, eventually.”

  “You’re right. What was I thinking?” We walked down the porch steps. He glanced over at me. “Guess I was thinking that dress wasn’t the most practical for a motorcycle ride.”

  “Tonight is not a night for practicality.” The night air was brisk and a shiver went through me. “It’s also not a night for a short, paper-thin dress, but I’m wearing it anyway because it fits my mood perfectly.”

  Beck stopped before climbing onto the motorcycle and wrapped his arms possessively around me. I nearly bounced off his hard chest as he pulled me to him. “What mood is that, library lady?”

  In stereotypical library fashion, I lifted my finger to my lips and shushed him. “You’ll see,” I whispered.

  I motioned to the bike. He threw his long leg over the seat and fired up the rumbling motor. I stared at the seat and glanced down at my dress.

  He looked over his shoulder with interest, apparently waiting to see just how I would tackle my impractical wardrobe. Either I was going to do this right or not at all. I pinched the tight fabric that fit almost like a tube dress and yanked it so that the already short hem came up to just below my panties.

  “Fucking hell,” Beck muttered, seemingly to himself because he had no further comment.

  I threw my leg over and tucked myself against him as my arms wrapped around him. “I’m ready.”

  Chapter 19

  Considering there were no other houses or neighborhoods in the vicinity, the Hanky Dory pulled in a respectable crowd on a Sunday night. Beck parked the bike. While I loved riding on the back of a motorcycle, I was thankful for the short ride tonight. My legs were icy cold by the time Beck turned off the motor.

  I climbed off, yanked down my dress and stared at the place, which was loud and boisterous as if packed to the gills. A few butterflies suddenly made themselves available for a rush of nerves. It was just a silly little fantasy, harmless really. Beck would probably find it almost comical. It had all started with the biker in Kennedy’s Korner. Something about him had made me want to try life on the rowdy side for a change. I wanted to throw caution and propriety out the window and not worry about what other people were thinking. In fact, if we garnered a few looks of distaste all the better.

  Beck climbed off the motorcycle and stretched to his full, breathtaking height. He was absolutely everything I’d ever fantasized about and more. I wrapped my hand around his arm and we walked toward the entrance.

  “Do you think your table at the back will be available?”

  “Hard to say. It’s pretty crowded in there.”

  He opened the door. Music, loud conversation and cue balls clacking together reverberated through the small building. More than a few people waved or said hello to Beck as we walked through. Hank, the owner, looked up from the tap where he was hurriedly filling pitchers of beer. He did a double take as Beck and I walked up to the counter. Hank turned a gruff expression toward me and then back at Beck.

  “No trouble tonight, right?”

  Beck gave him a quick salute to assure him there wouldn’t be any. Just like the night before, the place was filled with an eclectic mix of customers. I breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t see Derek amongst the faces.

  Beck ordered two beers, and we carried them through to the pool room. Still no Derek, but there were plenty of people, mostly men, at the tables. One guy in particular, wearing a blue sweater and an icky grin, made a point of watching me walk past in my dress that was suddenly feeling way to snug. Beck’s entire body seemed to tense with anger as we walked past the smirking creep, who seemed oblivious to the fact that I was walking in with a man who could, metaphorically speaking, crush a cue ball in his hand.

  We reached the corner table. It was perfectly situated, dark and semi-private, but I was feeling beyond silly. We slid into the booth. It seemed as if every eye that wasn’t on the game was on us. It might have been because of the scene the night before when Beck had nearly strangled a man for calling me a bitch, or it might have been the skimpy dress, a dress that was just asking for attention. But most of all, I couldn’t help feeling that everyone knew what I’d come here to do. I was being paranoid, of course.

  Beck nearly filled the table bench as he slid into it and rested his arm back along the top of the seat. I sat close to him and cradled my beer as if it was life support. I sipped it and stared out, absently, at the people playing pool.

  Beck noticed my tension immediately. “Em, you’re holding that beer as if it might run away from you, and from the way you’re barely sipping it, it seems you’re not really a beer drinker.”

  I unpeeled my white knuckled fingers from the cold glass, placed it on the table and sighed. “I do like beer. I thought it would loosen me up. Only now I see that I have no idea how to do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Loosen up.”

  His booming laugh caught the attention of some of the people playing pool. They looked our direction. I shrank down, suddenly worried that they were all staring at my two sizes too small dress.

  “Sweetheart, I’ve just spent the best damn twenty-four hours with you, and if you haven’t loosened up, then I can’t fucking wait to see what’s next.”

  I shrank down more, and my face heated with a blush. “You make me sound like a—” My throat tightened. I moved to scoot out of the seat, but he took hold of my arm.

  “Emmie.” He shook his head. “Shit, why do women do that to themselves?”

  “Do what? Allow themselves to fall right into bed with anyone who asks?” A sob fell from my lips. The last thing I needed to do was cry, but there they were, the usual, traitorous tears.

  He spun to face me and the table rocked from the movement. “So, I’m just anyone? And what was different about your behavior than mine? For fucksake, Em, we are two consenting adults who happened to find ourselves deeply attracted to one another. That doesn’t make you loose or me just any guy.” He wore serious very well on his all too handsome face. “Unless, of course, I am just any guy to you.”

  “Of course you’re not. Jeez, you stepped out of that fog, and for a second, I wondered if the romance gods had just dropped you there because I’d been wishing so hard for someone like you.” I swallowed to relieve some of the tightness in my throat. “You’re right. I’m being hard on myself. It’s this dress, and the whirlwind twenty-four hours with you—my first, second and third wish from the bottle genie.”

  “I liked the whole romance gods thing better.” That slow half grin that I’d grown extremely fond of appeared. “Exact
ly why are we here when we could be at home doing all those loose things right now. Since I’ve seen you in that dress, I’ve thought of little else.”

  “Except maybe that beer.”

  He lifted the glass of beer. “Well, Hank does stream a damn good beer from that tap.”

  I watched in my usual state of fascination as he swallowed the beer, his Adam’s apple moving up and down in an almost provocative way.

  He clunked the glass down, snapping me out of my trance. “So, what’s this fantasy you have dreamed up?”

  I shook my head, and the embarrassed blush returned. “It’s nothing.”

  “Tell me, library lady. Otherwise, I might just start one of my own and it will involve you and one of those pool tables and Hank kicking me the hell out of here for good.”

  I blinked up at him. “You have no filter at all, do you?”

  “Nope,” he said proudly. “So tell me.”

  “I guess it’s just me always being tired of acting the goodie two shoes. With the exception of the last twenty-four hours.” I nodded with a raised brow. “The most freeing of my life, I might add. I just thought it would be fun to make out in the back of some seedy, dark saloon with an incredibly hot man. Not all the way, of course. I never really relished the idea of a mug shot and jail time. I just thought, you know, like two really horny teens in the back of a movie theater.” I waved it off and took a nervous drink of my beer. “It’s silly and not all that wicked.”

  The second I lowered the beer to the table, he yanked me into his lap. I gasped as I landed solid against his chest. “You’ve got the seedy saloon, the incredibly hot man, or so I’ve been told. Which means, sweetheart, you’re just one long, make out kiss away from checking off a fantasy.”