Kinky Neighbors Two Page 2

  She loved her new name said in the sexy timbre of his voice. He was hard against her thigh, and his touch was making her wet. “I want to use up my free ten dollars we got with the players card,” she groused. But her nipples were hard beads against the sexy lace bra she’d bought.

  “We can use it later.” He leaned in, licked her ear, then blew a warm breath on her.

  She gave an involuntary full-body shudder.

  “I want you now,” he whispered, his finger stroking the delicate crotch of her thong. “I’d do you right here if I could.”

  Alexis wanted to straddle him, take him. Here. Now. But even in Nevada, you’d get arrested for having sex in public.

  “You’re already wet,” he said softly, his gaze holding hers as he pushed a little deeper into her cleft.

  Alexis bit her lip to trap the moan inside.

  “Oh yeah”—he smiled wickedly—“real wet. And ready. Think I can make you come right here?”

  One arm around her shoulder, he held her against him and worked his magic between her legs. Heat rushed to her core, and her body started to move with the rhythm of his stroke.

  Yes, yes, he could make her come, right here and now. That was his power over her. It was sexy, it was hot, it was risky. But for tonight, she wanted to ride the edge with him. This was just the appetizer.

  Alexis grabbed her purse and threw too many bills on the table. She put her lips to his ear and her hand on his cock. “If you want your real wedding feast, Mr. Mitchell, you better hurry. Or I might have to start without you.” Then she slid out of the booth.

  She walked quickly despite the high heels, but he caught her with his long-legged stride and pulled her beneath his arm. She loved his height. Even in three-inch heels, she was only five-six, and he was well over six feet. Next to him she felt petite, and safe.

  Their waiter winked at them. The hostess waggled her fingers. They skirted around a couple haggling over whether to eat now and have the 99 cent tacos and margaritas or wait until after six o’clock and have the 9.99 steak dinner.

  The slot music was louder out here, and the aisles were starting to fill up with gamblers looking for the perfect machine that would hand them the big payout. A waitress tottered on monstrously tall heels, a tray of drinks balanced on her hand.

  Drew pulled Alexis behind a bank of unoccupied slot machines and kissed her hard and deep until her head was spinning. It was him, not the margaritas. His touch, his scent, his taste, how much she loved him. He made her dizzy with desire.

  He hauled her to the elevators, stabbing the button hard, then pressed her close. “I’m not sure I can wait, baby,” he muttered in her hair.

  The elevator car came, a nicely dressed Latino couple got off, and Drew practically dragged Alexis inside. He shoved his card key in to activate the car and punched their floor number.

  Then he was on her, hoisting her up against the wall of the elevator. Her skirt rode up. “I want to take you with your legs wrapped around my waist,” he whispered.

  Alexis locked her ankles behind him. “Right now?”

  Cupping her butt in his big hands, he thrust against her. “Oh yeah.”

  Even through his suit pants, she could feel how hard he was. “You’re a very bad man.”

  He laughed, then put his mouth to her throat, licked her, whispered to her. “Actually I’m very, very good.”

  The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and he let her feet slide to the floor. His eyes on her, he backed out, pulling her with him. The hall was empty, and as the doors slid shut behind them, he pinned her against the wall, his hands between her legs.

  “You’re so wet, baby.” He devoured her with a kiss.

  Alexis forgot to listen for footsteps. Then her hand was in his again, and he led her down the hall toward their room. Two turns, four doors, he pulled her into the alcove outside their room.

  And he was on her again, lifting her high against the wall and mimicking sex.

  “Do you want me to do you here?” He was teasing her with his antics, but his voice, his body, his breath in her ear, it all drove her mad.

  “I want you any way I can have you,” she said as solemnly as she’d said her wedding vows.

  Logan had said she wasn’t a firecracker. She was all that and more with Drew. Every night, he had to have her. There’d been weekend days when they didn’t even get out of bed except to eat. They were like teenagers.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  Drew pulled back, his gaze hot, his features suddenly serious. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you. I’ll never stop.”

  Then he slid the card key into the slot and carried her inside.

  Chapter Four

  “I don’t know why you’re so upset.” Cat used her pleading voice.

  Logan gritted his teeth as he threw socks, underwear, and T-shirts into a suitcase.

  “Would you stop that and talk to me?” She stood at the end of the bed, hands on her hips.

  He pulled his suit carrier out of the closet, threw it across the bed, and went back to the closet for the dress shirts he wore to work.

  “You said you liked it.” Her voice rose a note.

  “That was before I knew Terry”—he practically spat the name at her—“was a man.”

  “But it was so hot, Logan, watching him with your cock in his mouth.” Now she was cajoling. “It was incredible.”

  There’d been that split second when Logan met the man’s eyes. And Terry had known he was in trouble. He’d hightailed it out of the house before Logan beat the living crap out of him. Only Terry wasn’t to blame. She was.

  “You don’t get it,” he enunciated each word with a hard edge.

  “No, I don’t. You said you wanted to experiment, try new things.”

  Reaching back for a suit, he slammed the sliding closet door too hard on its tracks. The glass shook but didn’t break. He’d had to shower, scrub himself. Now he had to get away from her.

  “It’s not like it makes you gay or anything. Don’t be such a homophobe.”

  He’d never hit a woman. He wouldn’t start now. Instead he carefully stowed the suit in the carrier. He probably should have put the suits in first, then the shirts, so they didn’t crease, but he wasn’t about to undo what he’d already done.

  “I’m not a homophobe,” he said carefully. Yes, he loved dirty and nasty. He even loved Cat’s surprises. But there were limits. He wasn’t into guys. He was hetero all the way. And what she’d done had...

  He drew in a deep breath, trying to clear his head of the red haze before he did something bad.

  “I did it with Alexis,” she said, her voice a tad whiny. “You didn’t seem to think it was so bad then.”

  He clenched his teeth so hard, his entire head ached. “You both agreed to do it.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that. You talked her into it.”

  “She still knew what she was doing.” He grabbed ties and tossed them in the case willy-nilly. Shoes, he’d need dress shoes and running shoes. Jogging pants, jeans. He started rummaging through drawers.

  “Come on, Logan. Be reasonable. You liked it.”

  He stood straight. Cat was tall, five-eight, but he was taller. He glowered down at her. “You tricked me. When I said I’d experiment, I didn’t sign up for you to lie.” She’d crossed a line without telling him.

  That made him think of Alexis. He’d fucked Cat behind her back. When Alexis signed up for a foursome, she hadn’t signed up for him fucking Cat in their bed in the middle of the afternoon. He’d tricked her. He’d lied. He’d crossed a line Alexis hadn’t agreed to.

  Now he knew how it felt.

  He left Cat there, striding to the bathroom for his shaving kit. After his shower, he’d dressed in fresh clothes, jeans, a T-shirt. He’d needed to feel clean. He wasn’t sure the shower was enough. It wasn’t just Terry. It was the past year, the things he’d done, the people he’d hurt. Alexis. He’d seen it all the moment he’d
met Terry’s gaze and suddenly realized the tables had been turned on him.

  He closed his eyes against the image in the bathroom mirror. He didn’t like what he saw.

  He’d been thinking with his dick for over a year now. He’d made a huge mistake. It was time to think with the other head.

  He stalked back into the bedroom, throwing the kit in the suitcase with the rest of his stuff, then he zipped the bag.

  She sighed. “Okay, just tell me how long it’s going to take for you to forgive me. And I promise I won’t surprise you with anything ever again.” A hint of sarcasm laced her words.

  “I’m leaving.” He turned to the suit carrier, zipped it, folded it in half, and fastened it closed.

  “You’re kidding, right?” She actually gaped.

  Cat was a gorgeous woman. She knew how to drive a man crazy. And yes, that orgasm had been one of the most supreme in his experience. But she simply didn’t get it. He could never again let her tie him up, blindfold him, or surprise him. He might even have to sleep with one eye open. Maybe he was a homophobe. It didn’t matter. She’d made him fearful that he had hidden things within him, things he didn’t want to explore, not ever. She’d violated his trust.

  Just the way he’d violated Alexis’s trust.

  Hefting both bags off the bed, he walked out on Cat without looking back.

  Chapter Five

  Alexis tasted so damn sweet. Drew never took off her dress. He simply dumped her on the bed, pushed everything to her waist, pulled aside her thong, and put his tongue to her.

  “Oh God.” Alexis moaned, then she writhed on the bed. Her blond hair fanned artfully across the dark spread beneath her.

  She’d thought he was joking about taking her in the restaurant, the casino, the elevator, or the hallway. But he would have. He could have. If she’d said yes.

  He suckled and licked, thrust his tongue inside her, then went back to circle her clitoris as he entered her with two fingers. He loved making her wild. He couldn’t get enough of her.

  In a matter of seconds, maybe thirty, maybe sixty, her body clenched hard around his fingers, and she shook in climax. “Drew, Drew, Drew,” she cried out, fisting her hands in his hair to hold him close as she rode the tide.

  When she calmed, he crawled up her body, and pinned her to the bed with his weight. She opened her eyes. “Oh my God.”

  “That was your first married orgasm, Mrs. Mitchell.” He loved calling her that. It was new and special. Not like anyone who’d come before.

  “And now I want my first married fuck, Mr. Mitchell.” She pulled his head down for a long kiss, and he knew she could taste herself on his lips.

  Alexis hadn’t been a prude, but she’d been far more delicate than Cat. Sure they’d done some really nasty stuff during their foursome debacle, but with him alone, she’d rarely used the word fuck or shared a kiss that tasted of come, his or hers, or both combined. But in the months they’d been together, she’d learned to love the dirty talk.

  “How do you want it, Mrs. Mitchell?”

  “Hmm.” She traced his lips with her finger, considering. “In the bathroom in front of the mirror with the lights on.”

  She’d been hesitant about her body at first. Somewhere through the years, she’d grown to believe she wasn’t good enough. But he’d taken her in front of a mirror and shown her how beautiful she was, how amazing they were together.

  “Perfect,” he agreed. “For that you need to be naked.”

  He rolled to his feet, pulling her with him. Removing his jacket, he tossed it over the back of a chair, then toed off his dress shoes.

  For their honeymoon, he’d gotten a more luxurious room, which had the usual entertainment center, flat screen TV, desk, but also a table for two plus a sofa by the sliding glass door. On an upper floor, it afforded a view of the lake sparkling in the early evening sun.

  But the bathroom was the jewel in the crown, with a large jet tub on one end and a fully mirrored wall behind it.

  He’d been ravenous before, now he needed to savor her. He turned her to the mirror at the back of the tub so she could see him as he undressed her. Sliding the zipper of her dress, he bared her shoulders.

  He kissed the crook of her neck. “You looked gorgeous in that dress this afternoon, when I put my ring on your finger.” The dress fit snugly across her ample breasts, with a high waist and a flare over her hips. Simple yet elegant.

  “You looked magnificent in your black suit and red tie,” she told his reflection in the mirror. Then she fingered her wedding ring. “Let’s buy you a ring this weekend, here in Tahoe.”

  “It’s a deal.” He slid the dress down, then helped her step out of it. She stood in white lace bra, panties, and thigh-highs. Her butt cheeks framed the thong, and he bent for a nip of her flesh. “Very sexy underwear for a married woman.”

  “I bought them just for you.” She winked.

  He carefully hung the dress on the hanger she’d left on the back of the door.

  Then he stood behind her once more. A head taller, he watched her in the mirror as he undid his tie and tossed it onto the counter. “Do you realize I licked you to orgasm on the bed without even removing my jacket and tie?” Talk about hot.

  She shot him a naughty smile. “Very sexy. Like you couldn’t wait to have me.”

  “I couldn’t.” He undid his shirt and cuffs and tossed that, too. Then he pulled his T-shirt over his head.

  She leaned back to rub her shoulder blades against his bare chest.

  “Touch yourself for me,” he said as he unbuckled and unzipped.

  Alexis cupped her breasts, plumped them above the lace bra. His mouth watered for a taste of her tight nipples.

  “Put your hand in your panties.” He shoved his pants over his hips as she slid her hand slowly down her abdomen to her thong. Rather than delve inside, she flirted on the outside of the material, tracing the lips of her sex.

  His breath hitched in his chest. “I love watching you make yourself come.” Sometimes he made her do that, lay spread out on the bed before him with her fingers in her pussy. He liked to stroke himself to release and come on her. Then he’d lick her clean. It was enough to make him hard again, then he’d have to fuck her.

  “I’ve married a very dirty man,” she said saucily.

  He got rid of his socks, then the pants, not bothering to hang them the way he had her dress. “I’m going to strip off your panties, but I want the shoes and stockings.”

  “What about my bra?”

  He reached around to tweak her nipple through the lace. She sucked in a breath. “Keep that on, too,” he told her.

  Then he pulled the thong over her hips, let it fall to the floor. She was the one who kicked it aside.

  “Deliciously wanton,” he whispered against her hair as he gazed at their reflection. She was blond against his dark, petite against his male frame. She’d trimmed her pussy, leaving a sexy outline.

  Drew slipped a finger between her lips, stroked her clit. She widened her stance for him. “Pretty,” he said, watching the slide of his fingers, the shape of his hand against her abdomen, feeling the soft, wet skin, breathing in her arousal.

  “I want you.” She reached between them to palm his cock.

  “I need you.” He held her against him, rocking slightly, pressing harder into her hand.

  “I love you.” Her lips, plump and reddened from his kisses, formed the words in the mirror.

  “I love you.” It was like saying their vows all over again.

  Then he pushed her forward until she balanced with both hands on the high edge of the tub.

  “Do it now,” the woman in the mirror demanded, her gaze setting him on fire.

  Drew held her hip in one hand, spreading her with the other. His cock nudged her folds, then he slid deep.

  She threw her head back as he thrust home. “Drew, oh God.”

  He held her, took her. Her breasts overflowed the cups of her bra as he went deep, withdrew, took he
r again. And again.

  Leaning over her, blanketing her with his body, he anchored her to him with a hand between her legs. He caressed her clit on the outside, angled his body to stroke her G-spot on the inside.

  She cried out his name. In the reflection, her eyes were tightly shut. She was only sensation now, climbing toward climax. He knew her sounds, the feel of her around him. He knew what she wanted, needed, and he gave it to her until her body contracted around him in that moment before orgasm. Then he let himself go, hit the pinnacle with her, rode the bliss.

  And he shouted for all the world to hear. “Love you. Christ, I love you.”

  Chapter Six

  One or other of them was usually working late, and their honeymoon—if that’s what you could call their memorable quickie trip to Tahoe—had only lasted through the weekend. So Alexis put it on her agenda to leave work a bit early on Monday to make Drew something special for dinner. Shrimp and pasta, he’d like that.

  Her small condo was fine for now, but they really had to decide where they were going to live. Pooling their money and buying a house would be the most logical thing to do. She missed a garden. Yet they hadn’t really talked about all that yet, not even on the drive home yesterday.

  The doorbell rang as she was peeling the shrimp. Who on earth would be stopping by now? She and Drew did little entertaining.

  Alexis wiped her hands on a cloth. The gold wedding band gleamed on her finger. Drew had talked about getting her an engagement ring, but she didn’t really want one. His gold ring was enough. They’d found a band for him in a Tahoe jewelry store. It was plain, but that’s all he’d wanted.

  She opened the front door and felt her mouth drop open. “Logan.” Honestly, he was the last person she expected. Sure she’d given him her phone number and address. In case they had to deal with the lingering detritus of their marriage, like taxes, or something that popped up on the credit report without warning.