Page 41 of One Night Stand After Another
“The sweater.”
“Why?” She did as he asked, and he tucked a blanket over her lap, then draped the other one over himself. He turned toward her and propped the pillows between them.
His hand slipped into her lap, startling her.
“I have an idea. A good one,” he added.
His warm hand moved under the bottom edge of her shirt. She felt his fingers seek the band of her yoga pants and delve lower, under her panties. Her breath caught in her throat and she shifted, automatically making room for him.
“You know what I was thinking about while you were crocheting all those hours in the car? This. But I had to keep both hands on the wheel. This is much better.”
For her, too, although she kept her ears tuned for any indication they might get caught. No sound of footsteps. His fingers eased into her folds, gently making a place for themselves. “I’m not bothering you, am I?” he asked, slowly, ever so slowly, stroking her center.
“No,” she said faintly, clutching her yarn to keep from dropping it. Her hook slid over in the wrong direction.
His fingers already knew her so well. He was barely even moving, just pressing against some secret spot inside her that he’d claimed for himself.
“Can you crochet while I make you come?” He tugged his hand free, licked his fingers, and began again. At the touch of his slick fingers, she melted, helplessly aroused.
“I’m not sure.” She breathed slowly and tried to focus on her crochet hook, but all she could see were stars and rainbows in brilliant colors she could only hope to find in yarn.
“Because,” he went on, “I have this fantasy of us fucking while you work, a half-finished sweater spread all over my chest while you ride me so slowly I think I’m going to die.”
She clenched around his hand.
“You’re so wet. So soft. I love how I know if I do this”—he teased her clit in a circular motion, forcing a needy sound, quickly swallowed, from her throat—“you’ll make that noise. And if I do this—”
She held her breath, waiting.
“You’ll hold your breath.” He laughed softly. “Breathe, Clara. In.” He pressed a finger deep inside her. “And out.” He waited for her to exhale, and then eased his finger slowly out of her body.
She took another breath and was rewarded with two fingers, tucked right against that magic spot.
“Stitch, baby. You can do it.”
She shook her head.Nope.Not screaming, now that she could do. Maybe. Probably. Crocheting while he unraveled her was something far beyond her abilities.
“No? Then just enjoy the view.”
She turned her head to meet his dark, crystal gaze, and fluttered, pulsing around his fingers at the intensity she saw there. He knew her body so well, nothing could stop her response to his clever touch. But ever since he’d taken such amazing care of her yesterday, she’d started to wonder if they could have more than just a hot week together. The idea was equal parts terrifying and exciting.
“Nice warm up.” He leaned to brush a kiss on her tingling lips. “But I didn’t mean the view of me. I want you to enjoy the beauty of the sky while I enjoy watching you come apart against my fingers. I did promise you stunning views on this trip.”
She turned her head to the window as much to hide her unruly emotions from him as to see the view. She gasped, uncertainty momentarily blunted by the incredible vista beneath the plane, yet one more incredible experience she never would have had if not for Zane, even if she was afraid it was his competitive drive and not his feelings for her that drove him to such great lengths. The earth below held every hue of green, red, and brown. She was going to make a sweater in every color. She pushed her uncertainty far below the surface of her thoughts and let it go. Whether this week turned into more or not, every minute was worth it.
She turned to look back at him. “Thank you.”
“For what? Pointing out the view? Or doing this?” He crooked his fingers and sent her racing right up to the peak again.
She couldn’t speak. Instead, she opened to him, enjoying the ride with the beautiful, blurry sky all around her. His fingers moved slowly, deliberately, dipping inside her to find the evidence of her eagerness and using it to draw slow, sensuous circles around her clit. Each time she got close, he would begin again, until every part of her felt warm and tingly, from her parted lips to her curling toes. The pleasure became sharper, the blue of the sky brighter.
This time, he didn’t retreat, and when the first hard spasm sent her flying, he thrust two fingers inside her, anchoring her, and held her while she shook, silent, still, and out of her mind.
When it was over, and his hand gently retreated from her body, she met his gaze and smiled, breathing slowly until she could talk and tracing her thoughts back to where her brain had gone soft and fuzzy. What had she wanted to tell him?
Right.
It took her several deep breaths to pull herself together enough to find the right words. “Thank you for all of the incredible orgasms, and thank you for pointing out the view.” She reached to cup his cheek, stroking the firm line of his jaw. “But I also need to thank you for encouraging me. I’ve always loved to crochet. It’s been my passion for a long time, but I’ve never indulged it to this extent. This has been an amazing trip.”
