Between The Sheets. P.J. Mellor
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“This house may be more than I need.”
With a sigh, Andrea put her fists on her hips and glared at him. “How do you know? You haven’t even seen the interior yet.”
“True.” He held out his arm. “Let’s go check it out.”
“I didn’t mean to snap at you,” she mumbled as they made their way up the drive.
“I know. Now tell me about this house.”
“It’s new, recently constructed, Energy Star rated. The floors are pretty much bare still. The builder is waiting for the buyer to pick out the materials.” Bending to swipe her card in the reader, she waited for the key fob to dispense, then opened the beveled glass front door. “Any fixture or appliances you don’t like can be switched out.”
“I understand all that, but I’d kind of hoped to at least see a furnished model.” At her quick glance, he said, “You know, to get an idea of how furniture will fit in here.” He shrugged. “I’m sort of a visual, hands-on kind of guy.”
The massive dusty cement entry opened up to a great room and an open-concept kitchen.
“No formal dining room?” He flipped the lever to turn on a stream of water in the kitchen sink. “Plumbing works.”
In answer, she sighed and walked to a door at the end of the kitchen, opening it as she spoke. “There is a very nice walk-in pantry.”
“But no formal living or dining room.”
The pantry door slammed shut. “No! There is no formal anything. This is a beach house, Junior. What you professed to want, remember? Beach house denotes casual living.”
He watched her chew on her lower lip. “What’s really the problem, Miz Redd? I’d think maybe you didn’t get enough sleep and it made you cranky, but you probably slept as much as me.” He advanced, backing her against the snack bar. “You know what I think?”
Instead of answering, she glared some more and slowly shook her head.
“I think,” he said, pinning her with his eager body, “you’re afraid to be alone with me in this big ole house. Afraid you might not be able to control yourself and will rip my clothes off and have your wicked way with me again.”
Her mouth fell open, but she recovered fast. “Is that the way you remember it? At the very least,” she continued when he nodded, “it was a mutual thing. Something, by the way, I’ve never done.”
His eyebrows rose. “Never? Huh. I didn’t think you were a virgin yesterday.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” She slapped at his hand, which was toying with her nipple, making it harden through her shirt. “I meant I had never, um, done something like that with a client.” Her cool blue gaze met his. “It was inappropriate.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He trailed kisses down the sweet-smelling side of her neck, bumping his erection against her hips.
“Unprofessional,” she whispered, arching her neck, her hands stroking his back beneath his shirt. “Unethical.”
His mouth covered hers. Hearing how wrong it was to do what they’d done or what he planned to do again was not on his agenda.
Breaking the kiss, he lifted her to sit on the edge of the dusty granite counter and stepped between her legs. “Let’s do it again,” he said as he swooped back in for another taste of her tempting, lying mouth.
A little whimper escaped her as she pulled him tighter to her, the pointy heels of her shoes gouging his backside.
He reacted like a stallion that was being spurred into action. Sheathing himself at the speed of lust, he pulled her closer to the edge, flexed his hips, and impaled her.
They both groaned.
11
Andrea bit Connor’s earlobe and tightened her grip as his lean hips slammed against hers, his penis buried deep within her aching body.
They could get caught. She didn’t care.
She could lose her license. She didn’t care.
She could lose the sale. Damned if she’d let that happen. She didn’t care if she had to screw the guy 24-7, he would buy a damn house from her. Even if it meant she had to wear him down to do it.
Taking off her panties before picking Connor up had been an impulse. She’d had no intention of a replay of the day before. Well, okay, maybe some small part of her had hoped for it. She was only human. Sex of any kind was a distant memory. Sex like she’d experienced with Connor fell into a whole other category from anything she’d done before. She’d be a fool not to want it again. And again. For as long as it lasted. Hell, he was going to be in town for only a few days, a week at the most. If she were a man having sex with a willing female client, people would look the other way. People had, when she and Rich were married.
The way she saw it, if she was an equal in business, why not also in pleasure?
True, Connor was not only a client, but he was also significantly younger. It’s not as though she thought it was love or even a lasting, potential long-term affair. She saw it for what it was: mutual gratification. A means to an end. Nothing more.
The last thought fled in the face of her climax rushing toward her, drowning her in such bliss, she wouldn’t have been surprised to find herself floating above the granite countertop had she not been anchored by Connor’s strong arms.
“Wait,” she said on a breath. “More.” She leaned back on her hands, not caring about the dusty surface, offering her now-bared breasts.
He sucked voraciously, continuing until she grew wet and slippery where they were still joined.
“More,” she whispered again. “There’s more house to, ah, see.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her from the counter, still embedded deep within her aching body. “Which way?”
Any way you want, big guy, she thought, then realized he was asking for directions for their house tour. Gyrating against his sweat-slicked skin, she pointed in the general direction of the master suite.
One second, lovely fantasies were flitting through her mind of exactly how she was going to show him the features of the house. The next second, he stumbled. They landed with a lung-squeezing thud on the paper-covered hardwood floor of the great room.
“Crap! I’m such a clod!” Connor’s voice wheezed in her ear. His teeth nipped the tendon along her neck, making her wetter. “Are you okay?”
All she could do was nod, thrilled to realize not only was it true, but also miraculously they were still joined. She gave an experimental gyration of her hips.
Connor groaned and flexed, driving deeper.
“What happened?” Not that she really cared, not when he was plunging in and out of her with such slow, deliberate and delicious movements. She loved the firm heat alternately filling and pulling out of her, the feel of his skin rubbing against hers….
Her body relaxed for the first time in a long time while she allowed her hips to rise and fall in cadence with his, her breathing synchronized with each breath that ruffled the hair by her ear.
Adrift in sexual satiation, she was surprised when the first ripples of another climax began to tickle deep within.
Connor must have picked up on the clamping of her inner muscles, because he increased his tempo. What had been slow and easy, almost lazy movements picked up in speed to become hard, aggressive thrusts. Thrusts that drove her bare bottom along the dusty paper and pushed her hip bones against the hard flooring.
Breathing became heavier, then shallow pants, puffing in and out in time with each powerful surge of Connor’s hips as he pounded into her eager, receptive body.
They reached