Pretty in Kink Page 4

  It might be my only chance to taste you.

  His words came back to her in an erotic reverberation that shook her to her bones and set her blood boiling. Again. Images of him sampling her body’s most intimate areas made her lips part and her crotch ache with longing.

  It seemed the journey from apart to together took eons. His mouth touched hers and her eyelids fluttered shut. At first, the tenderness of it made Britt think she’d imagined the kiss. But he groaned and it brought her to full awareness of all its tingly wetness. His fingers hooked at the back of her neck and tangled in her hair. She heard—no, felt—his indrawn breath, loved the crunch of leather as he shifted, followed by the sensation of her body being molded to his long, hard length.

  Uh-oh, I’m a goner.

  Her backpack hit the floor with a thud. Britt braced her palms against his chest, at first in weak defense, but it evolved into surrender. The rippled wall of his torso flexed against her palms as he tightened his embrace. To keep from falling, or maybe for the sake of pure wanton need, she slid her arms up and wound them around his thick neck just the way she had in her fantasies. Now in the throes of reality rather than dreams, it did something feral to her insides, causing her to rise up on tiptoe and cling to him.

  The move brought her breasts against his chest. Her nipples went into sexual shock, tingling as they hardened and scraped over the lace of her bra. She shimmied closer, parting his jacket farther, stretching upward to sculpt her hips to his. The half-hard erection he ground against her pussy didn’t surprise her. It sent a welcome jolt of desire through her womb. Britt moaned into his mouth, now resigned to her licentious behavior, helpless to resist his swift seduction.

  The kiss deepened. He pushed his velvet tongue past her lips and dipped inside her mouth. She tasted mint and the vague flavor of tobacco. She’d never been attracted to smokers before. But mmm, the taste fascinated her, even appealed to her. How could that be?

  At this point, she didn’t know, didn’t care. She took the unfamiliar, warm passion he offered. Her panties flooded with cream. She could smell her own perfume, and the potent combination of it mixed with his faint aftershave sent her reeling in a fantasy where she ripped his clothes off. Britt panted into the kiss, picking up the pace when she realized if he kept this up, kept grinding his cock against her pebble-hard clit, she’d come right here and now.

  “I want you,” he breathed into her mouth. “Now.”

  “Mmmm, yes—no.” She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, scraped it between her teeth and explored it with her tongue. “I-I need time to get to know you.”

  “Yeah, well, I already know you,” he rasped, hitching her up so she straddled him while he stood, boots planted wide. The move slammed her jean-clad juncture flush against the head of his cock. She cried out, but he ignored her agony. He rained kisses over her chin, her cheeks, her lips. “Deep down inside, you’re a wildcat clawing to get out of that prim façade. Ahh, Britt, I can help. I want to help you let go of your inhibitions.”

  “No. Shh.” She protested his tempting offer even as she wrapped herself tighter around him.

  He stumbled to the breakfast bar and kicked aside the nearest barstool. It went tumbling, but he didn’t seem to care.

  Neither did she. Far from it. She needed this, had to have it or she’d die.

  Diego plunked her rear onto the tiled countertop. Even through the denim of her pants, the surface cooled her hot, swollen labia.

  “Ever since I laid eyes on you in those—in the store, I haven’t been worth a damn. I can’t sleep, I can’t work, I can’t get you out of my fucking mind. And I can’t get rid of this damned hard-on. All I can do is think about burying myself in your wet cunt.”

  Britt sucked in a surprised breath, holding it for a long moment before she released it. The dirty talk came naturally to him and it made her lower belly flood with more warmth. He was a raw, rough-around-the-edges man full of wicked revelations, and against her usual standards, she accepted the fact that he turned her on in spite of it.

  No man had ever spoken to her in such straightforward terms before now, or taken such physical charge during intimacies. Though courteous, in retrospect she could conclude they had all been pretentious, boring men.

  But even though her intuition reprimanded and screamed Run!, she couldn’t seem to obey it. She had never even entertained the idea of dating a man like Diego, much less sleeping with one. Between Doris shoving so many stodgy brokers, CEOs and lawyers her way, and the busy itinerary Doris kept for her, Britt had never had time to set her sights elsewhere.

  Is this what she’d been missing, what Lexi found so alluring in her choice of men? And was this what Britt truly wanted?

  Her answer came in the resigned, almost ashamed growl he let out. “Goddamn it, I’m sorry, Britt.” He started to step away, but she held her legs clamped around his hips.

  “Sorry? For what?”

  “Using such crude language. It’s, uh…second nature to me, but I gotta say, you bring it out like hell in me.”

  She slid down his body, stood and righted her tank top. Even though she’d discovered she wanted it, his words of regret made her face flame with mortification again. She fiddled with the elastic band around her wrist, made use of her hands by sweeping her mussed hair into a haphazard ponytail with it. “I-it’s all right.”

  “Holy hell, you look gorgeous with your hair up.” But he shook his head, backed away, readjusted the jeans across his crotch and raked a hand over the rich-brown hair sleeked back across the crown of his head. “Look, I should leave before I corrupt you beyond repair. We’ll try this another time.”

  “Does it show that easily?” she blurted.

  His eyebrows came together. “Does what show?”

  “My inexperience with…corruption.” Butterflies fluttered in her belly. Had she really said that?

  “I’m not sure.” Diego’s gaze didn’t waver. It bore into her as if a vampire’s trance held her under its spell. His voice seduced her by its tone of sexual fire and the intimate question he posed to her. “Do you have experience with kinkiness?”

  Only in pictures. “I… No.” She sighed, relieved she’d admitted her embarrassing issue.

  He strode closer, framed her face in his warm hands and winked. “Would you like an expert tutor? I would love to take on the job.”

  The only sound in the room was her heavy breathing. She stared into his eyes, so dark, so mesmerizing, and pondered her answer.

  Her panties were a clear reminder of what she’d missed out on. She’d wanted him—hell, just a quickie would have done the trick. But if it hadn’t been for him feeling the need to stop and apologize, she’d probably already be tainted. Oh yeah, she’d have that huge erection buried between her legs at this very moment.

  “I…”

  Almost as if he didn’t want to hear her answer, he ducked his head and pressed his lips to hers again. It reignited the embers and sent sparks zipping through her bloodstream. His lips were soft and moist, and she could almost taste his need for her. His apparent intent was to coax her right into bed. But what more did he allude to in asking her if she had experience?

  Her mind rewound to the pictures again. The photo shoot had mimicked some of the content in articles and pictures in kinky magazines. It amazed her that people did those things in their private lives. In fact, it fascinated Britt way more than she’d let on to Lexi. She’d never have admitted it to her best friend, but after the shoot, her G-string had been soaked and her labia and clit swollen with an unbearable desire for uninhibited, wild sex.

  She’d had to go home in the wee hours of that morning and masturbate the pent-up energy out of her system just so she could get to sleep.

  It had turned her on, all that naughty posing, a shoot far different from her daily routine. She’d pretended she really was being tied up, spanked, blindfolded, ravished by sex toys, by a man such as Diego controlling her. Getting kinky—whatever Diego’s version of that impli
ed—and relinquishing control to a man like him was fast becoming a secret fantasy. But did she dare reveal it? Maybe his form of corruption was nothing more than a few dirty words uttered during sex.

  Um. No. She didn’t think so. The man was intense and cryptic, a bad boy through and through. But did she want to see just how bad?

  Diego drew back, severing the electricity of the kiss. He tipped her chin up and forced her to look into his tortured gaze. His eyes were glazed with restrained lust. They were the only thing about him, she realized, that ever gave away his true emotions.

  “Come home with me. Forget the rally. I’ll feed you breakfast in bed. And then I’ll begin with those kinky lessons.”

  She swallowed, the brand of his hand on her chin so hot, so commanding it almost hurt. Breakfast in bed. His bed. She tried to picture it. What sort of depravity would those lessons include? Tying her up the way Lexi had? Spanking her? Delicious curiosity and the need to break from a shell she hadn’t understood she’d been huddling in prior to meeting him had her heart racing with temptation.

  “Britt?”

  God she loved the sound of her name edged by that hoarse voice. “Yes?”

  “What do ya say? Come home with me. Now.” He moved closer, so close his erection singed her lower stomach through their clothing. His eyes looked down into hers, holding her captive, and his arms tightened around her so that her breasts smashed against his chest. She caught his manly scent again and imagined it surrounding her in the tangle of sheets and the passion of unabashed sex. Her mouth watered and she tasted the scrumptious flavor of his last kiss. But she craved more, needed to embrace the decadent sin he offered her.

  “Come on, babe. Let me make love to you all day long. Let me show you things you’ve never seen before.”

  Britt’s knees turned to hot jelly. The frank request in his sexy voice and the carnal gleam in his eyes made her vision wobble. “I…oh god.” She closed her eyes and swayed against him, her hand planted on the swell of a hard pectoral.

  He caught her up before she collapsed into a heap at his feet. “Is that a yes?”

  Britt looked up at his downcast face. Handsome, rugged. The devil himself. “I don’t know what to say.”

  His mouth curved up at the corners. “How about yes?”

  She inhaled, gathering her wits about her, and whispered, “N-no.”

  He stiffened and sighed. His eyes smoldered with flames of desire. “Okay. I understand.”

  “I want to go to the bike rally first, then we’ll see about that…meal in your bed.” She gripped the lapel of his jacket and grinned. “I’ve never been to a biker function before. I’m intrigued. Besides, it’s a gorgeous, sunny day. I bet it would be a perfect kind of day for riding a motorcycle.”

  “That’s my girl.” He hitched her up so she straddled him and then headed toward the door in long strides.

  “So now that we’ve got all that out of the way,” she said on a giggle, doing her best to ignore his arousal grinding into her pussy, “can I have that ride on your bike you promised me?”

  “Damn right.” He set her down and snatched up her backpack. Handing it to her, he asked, “You brought the bikini, right?”

  She nodded, unable to suppress a grin and the words that tumbled out of her mouth. “Every string of it.”

  He swiped a hand over his forehead. “Let’s go. You tell me any more about that suit, I guarantee you we won’t be going to the rally.” He strode out the door.

  She locked up and followed him out to the bike. Her pulse spiked in anticipation. “Can’t wait to ride it,” she murmured, wringing her sweaty palms together.

  Thrusting a helmet at her, he drawled, “Darlin’, stick with me and you’ll get the ride of your life.”

  Chapter Four

  Britt couldn’t believe her eyes. They stood at a makeshift tiki bar in the middle of a fenced-in field waiting for the bartender to take their order. The worn wooden fence stood eight feet high and enclosed what at first glance looked like an innocent carnival.

  But on closer examination, there wasn’t anything innocent about it. Naughty, yes, but far from innocent.

  Britt’s face warmed as she took it all in.

  A band played classic rock music on a platform nearby. The beat of the drums pounded in her chest while a crowd of leather-clad men and women cheered, whooped and danced suggestively in the baking sun.

  Up on the far hill, an all-nude motorcycle race followed a trail of what appeared to be dangling sausages. Ha. And the women passengers nipped at them as their partners attempted to maneuver their bikes without crashing or stalling before their ladies deep-throated the sausages.

  Wow.

  She glanced to her right. A built-in swimming pool up by a ranch-style house overflowed with clothed and non-clothed partiers.

  Men and women, women and women and groups of men and women made out in the water, on the pool deck, in front of pop-up campers, in the crowd watching the band, on the tailgate of pickup trucks, anywhere and everywhere.

  An orgy, or just goofy fun among friends?

  Britt couldn’t decide as she stood next to Diego and scanned the perimeter. She knew she gawked like a kid, but she couldn’t help herself. Maybe “rally” was code for orgy?

  Diego pressed his hand to the small of her back and chatted with the bartender. The way he dragged his thumb around in a circle over her spine sent thrills of heat through her bloodstream. She detected a sense of control from him, possessiveness, and yet his touch implied that he wanted to soothe her and put her at ease, even encourage her to relax and let loose if the mood struck her.

  Did it—would it—strike her? She let her gaze roam some more and became aware that she seemed to be the only person standing stiff and guarded, the way a cornered cat would when looking for a way out.

  C’mon, Britt. It’s not like they’re going to roast you over the fire with the hog. Or rape you or throw you in a cage to be leered at by men and women and the few stray dogs running the land.

  Still, she sidled a step closer to Diego. Her pulse slowed a few beats when he slid an arm over her shoulder and tucked her close to his side.

  Nice. Comforting.

  The bartender bumped fists with Diego across the bar, did an uplift-type nod. “Hey, ’sup, Scoundrel? What’ll ya have?”

  “Water for now,” Diego said to the bartender. “At least until I decide if we’re staying over or not.”

  “You, sweetheart?” the man asked.

  Britt tore her stare from a group of buffed-up bikers arm wrestling at a nearby picnic table. The bartender’s kind hazel eyes swept her with a sympathetic look that said, “It’s okay, we won’t bite.”

  She dragged in a deep breath. “Uh…I-I think you better give me something strong. How about a Long Island Tea? Light on the tea.”

  Diego and the man chuckled in unison. Diego pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t let anyone eat you up. Except for me.”

  She peered into his eyes, so intense it sent a tumble of heat to her groin.

  “Ha-ha, I’m not worried. Just taking it all in.” She hooked her thumb through a belt loop at his back and grinned up at him. “But still… Don’t leave me alone just in case there is a hungry monster or two out there somewhere.”

  Diego gave a snort of delight, tossed a couple of bills on the bar and took their drinks from the bartender. He pushed the cold, wet glass into her hand.

  She continued to study her surroundings. Vendor tents lined one length of the fence near the guarded gate where they’d been admitted a few moments ago. The sweet scent of funnel cakes and gamey-smelling barbequed burgers mingled with the odor of cigarette smoke and a pungent smell she could only guess to be pot. She’d never smoked it and never would. But a freeing sense seized her at standing here inhaling the aromas and knowing she was welcome to join in or not, or even stare if she needed to and no one would give a pooh.

  Yeah, way different than any s
tuffy party she’d ever been to.

  But she enjoyed it so far and absorbed everything around her like a dry sponge.

  Other vendors sold leather vests, do-rags, t-shirts and skimpy women’s clothing, while some peddled strange-looking pipes, motorcycle parts…and sex toys.

  That one was right next to the tiki bar and even busier, packed with long-haired, tattooed men, bald men with piercings in various strategic places and women who showed more skin than Britt had in the photo shoot with Lexi. She strained to see what sort of toys were on display. Funny, she owned a standard six-inch vibrator—which no one knew about it, not even Lexi. Now there was a connection between prude Britt and Diego’s wild friends. Her face flamed again. She thought of how horny she could get using that ordinary vibrator.

  She strained to look closer, spying some interesting…contraptions. What other kinky toys were they selling in that tent?

  A sudden squeal had her flicking her gaze back to the crowd in front of the bandstand. She spotted a group of five women in leather gyrating to the music. No, wait. Scratch the “in” leather part. The women were topless and swinging their leather halter-tops over their heads. They poured beer over breasts and licked each other clean. Britt’s face warmed. Her pulse sped up, and though she knew she gawked, she couldn’t take her gaze from the wild scene.

  “Can’t make up your mind between the toys and the topless women?” Diego asked nonchalantly as he guided her to a picnic table set in front of some sort of blow-up boxing ring. With…with several men dumping buckets of Jell-O in it?

  She rubbed her lips together to help close her gaping mouth and glanced back at him. “N-no. Sorry. It’s just all so…so interesting, I can’t seem to quit staring.”

  He tossed her backpack on the bench, pinched her chin and tilted her face up, forcing her to look deep into his eyes. A pleasant shiver raced up her spine. “Hey, no reason to be sorry. I understand it’s not your usual scene. We can go if you’d like.”