Unwrap Me. Susan Lyons
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Nick’s eyes bugged out at the sight of her firm, sweet ass. “A thong?” he choked out. “Oh, god, you wear a thong bikini?”
Jude’s chuckle was throaty. “Only at our private beach. I bought it today. You wouldn’t believe the price of bathing suits in the middle of winter.”
Price? She was talking about price? He could barely focus. Ninety-nine percent of the blood in his body filled his cock, and that Tarzan guy inside him wanted to beat his chest. She’d bought a thong just for him.
There was only one thing to do.
Get naked.
He yanked the tee over his head and dragged his shorts down and stepped out of them. No underwear. Who the hell wore undies at the beach?
Her eyes widened and gleamed with heat. “Oh, so it’s a nude beach, is it? My new purchase was wasted.”
“God, no. It’s hot. You’re hot. Wear it later.” Normally he could string words together in a coherent sentence. Normally his fingers could undo a one-hook bra, but right now he wasn’t having much luck.
Jude reached up to help, and the scrap of fabric dropped away, revealing her full, perfect breasts. Light brown skin, rosy-brown nipples beaded up tight, crying out to be touched. He sank to his knees on the towel and licked one of those buds, then sucked it into his mouth.
Her body arched, thrusting into him. “Oh, yes, Nick.”
His hands cupped her butt cheeks as he teased and caressed one breast and then the other, trying to ignore the ache in his cock. Then he licked and nibbled his way down her body to the top of her bikini bottom while she writhed against his mouth.
A man on a mission, he tackled the last barrier between him and his goal. He hooked his thumbs in both sides of the skimpy bottom and pulled it down so she could step out of it.
Man, was she gorgeous. And hot. Very, very hot.
The curls that decorated her mound were dark, glossy, and formed a narrow strip. Two nights ago, she’d had a neat vee. Jeez, she’d gotten a bikini wax, too. For him.
He blew warm air against those silky curls but didn’t linger. The musky perfume of her arousal drew him to the moist, gleaming flesh between her thighs. He wanted to ram into her, soothe the ache in his cock.
But even more than that, he wanted to eat her up.
Her legs trembled, and she gripped his shoulders tightly. When his finger stroked her swollen lips, she moaned and widened her stance. A couple more strokes, and he slid inside, first one finger and then another, and felt her sheath grip him. Gently he pumped his fingers in and out, then put his lips to her and tasted her sweetness.
Her fingers bit into him, and she muttered something wordless and approving. Against his face, her body tensed, her muscles tightened. He circled her clit with his tongue and she writhed and pressed closer. Then he sucked the swollen bud gently into his mouth, tongue flicking the tip.
She cried out, and tremors rocked her belly, pulsed against his lips and fingers.
Feeling her climax almost drove him crazy. His own body was screaming for release. When she’d stopped shuddering, he eased her down on the towel. From his shorts pocket he pulled a condom. He was about to roll it on when her hand stopped him.
“Let me,” she purred, eyes glittering in the firelight as she sat up.
“Just make it quick.”
“Lie down.” One graceful hand planted itself in the middle of his chest and pushed him backward so he was lying on the beach towel.
God, he hoped she wasn’t going to torture him. Christ, he was twenty-nine—not a teenager who went off like a firecracker—but he hadn’t been so ready to blow in a long time.
She was staring at him, eyes narrowed in concentration. She must’ve read his mind again because she smiled knowingly. “Okay, surfer boy. Time to catch that wave and ride.”
Now she was rolling on the condom, and in the next moment she’d straddled him. Her warm thighs hugged his hips, her damp pussy brushed his balls. Then, thank god, she was lifting herself, a hand grasping his cock and steering it to the one place it was desperate to go.
The moment her body opened for him, he surged up, unable to stop himself. Buried to the hilt in her, he gave a groan of triumph. Of sheer pleasure. Hot, wet flesh surrounded him, and he held still, savoring the sensation.
Jude’s lovely bod looked great, arched back so her breasts thrust out, firelight flickering on her tawny skin. Long black hair cascaded in a sexy mess over her shoulders.
“Feel good?” she asked.
“Oh, man, yeah.” So good he had to move. He gripped her hips and, trying to take it nice and easy, began to thrust in a slow, steady rhythm.
“Easy waves to ride.”
Huh? Oh, right. Earlier they’d been doing the sexual-innuendo thing about surfing.
She picked up the motion, pelvis rocking against him. Breasts jiggling, begging for his touch.
When he cupped their soft, delicious weight, he groaned with pleasure.
Her head tossed, hair rippling.
She’d picked up the pace. Or had he? She looked so great, felt so good, and the smell of sex was hot in the air.
God, he was close. That sweet, irresistible tension was building in his cock, his balls, the base of his spine. Demanding release.
“The thing about waves,” Nick managed to gasp, “is that they build before you know it.”
“I can feel that.” Her voice was breathy, her cheeks and chest flushed. A drop of sweat trickled between her breasts. He caught it with his finger and brought it to his lips.
Now Jude was really riding him, rising and falling, grinding into him so her clit brushed against his shaft. Panting sounds came out of her mouth.
His balls were hard and tight; he couldn’t hold on any longer. He grabbed her hips, pulling her down while he thrust up with everything he had.
She cried, “God, Nick!” and he felt her shudder and shatter.
He let go and surged into a blinding orgasm that almost took him apart.
Dimly he was aware that she’d collapsed on top of him. His chest heaved as he struggled to breathe. His arms were limp as jelly, but somehow he managed to raise them and circle her back, hugging her to him. “Jesus.”
5
Jude snuggled in Nick’s arms, feeling bone-deep satisfied and mellow. But then her brain kicked in. The sex was over; now what? Last time, they’d met, chatted, and touched and then ended the night with sex. Now the evening was just beginning, and here she was, naked on top of him. Nice, yes—but this wasn’t the way she normally behaved with a guy.
She eased out of his arms and reached for her bikini. Not that it covered a lot, but at least she wouldn’t be nude.
Besides, she’d paid a lot of money for it and wanted more than a few seconds of appreciation from her surfer fireman.
Nick, who was putting his shorts back on, gave a wolf whistle, then made a spinning gesture with his hand, telling her to pirouette.
When she did, he said, “Worth every penny. But it’s the woman inside that’s really special.”
The sincerity in his voice was reassuring and helped her relax. “I’ll get the margaritas if you lay out our picnic.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
When she returned from the kitchen, another Beach Boys album was playing, and he’d spread out some great-looking goodies. Tensing, she scanned for signs of Christmas but found he’d honored her request.
Sitting