Whisper Falls Read online

  But the secrets didn’t matter right now. Whatever they were, in this moment she didn’t care. All she cared about was being with him, connecting with him, letting him make her feel good.

  When he rolled the fabric up over her breasts, a low groan escaped his throat and Tessa felt it between her legs. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and a hot spark rippled down her spine.

  Then he bent to drag his tongue gently over one beaded nipple, making her shudder and expel a ragged breath. He met her gaze only for a second—before sinking his mouth fully over the peak, beginning to kiss and suckle her, using his hand to mold and caress her other breast, somehow both firm and gentle at once. Oh God, it had been so long since a man had touched her there, kissed her there—she shut her eyes and stroked Lucky’s shoulders and simply basked in the wondrous sensations.

  Eventually, he kissed his way down her stomach, actually making the muscles there contract, and he peered up at her as he used his teeth to slowly pull the red drawstring below her navel.

  Rising to his knees, he said, “Lift up,” and she elevated her bottom from the bed long enough for him to tug her pajama pants to her thighs, though he left her panties on. Then he hoisted her feet playfully high as he drew the hot pepper pants the rest of the way off, letting them drop behind him.

  They both noticed her tattoo at the same time, on the one ankle still balanced in his palm, near his face. At moments, she practically forgot about it, but when he said in a low, utterly sexy rasp, “Aw, babe—what’s this?” she was so, so glad she’d gotten it. He studied it closely then, adding, “It’s perfect.” And she no longer cared if it sagged when she was fifty; she didn’t care if every other person in her life hated it when they finally saw it—this moment, and the look in Lucky’s eyes, made it completely worth it.

  “You like it?” she asked shyly. He’d just said he did, but maybe she wanted to hear it again.

  “I love it.” Then he cast a small grin. “And I’m surprised as hell by it.”

  And then he kissed it, her ankle, the ink there. Just a tiny kiss, but the sensation skittered all the way up her thigh. And then the light little kisses began to move—he kissed his way from her ankle to the inside of her knee.

  She drew in her breath when he continued, his kisses moving still closer to her very center—each kiss made her wetter and wetter, made her ache madly. She found herself spreading her legs farther for him without thought or hesitation.

  When he swept his hand over her feminine mound through her panties, as if gently petting it, she murmured a shaky “Ohhh.” Then, just like the kisses that had traveled the length of her leg, he dropped one sweet, gentle kiss overtop of the blue flowered panties she wore.

  After which he rose back to his knees, the fingers of both hands curling into the elastic at her hips. “I want these off, too.”

  She didn’t answer, just lifted, just let him draw the fabric down.

  After that, things began to run together for Tessa in a heady, ecstatic sort of blur. Lucky’s mouth was between her legs, licking her, pleasuring her, and she was biting her lip, moaning deeply—and coming. That quick.

  She’d needed this for so long that it took only seconds for his slow, deep ministrations to push her over the edge of orgasm and she found herself crying out, digging her fingers into the sheets on either side of her, lifting herself to his mouth as the pleasure rushed through her, as brisk and wild as the rush of Whisper Falls.

  When the climax had passed and the only remaining sound was her heavy breathing, she opened her eyes to find Lucky peering up at her. Oh God, was it bad to think he looked deliciously naughty between her legs? Especially while giving her that hungry little grin?

  Of course not. You have needs. And tonight, finally, this man is fulfilling them. “I want you,” she murmured breathily. “Please.”

  And she hadn’t quite planned on saying either of those things, but wasn’t sorry she had when Lucky rose up and started undoing his jeans. She sat up and began to help, a little rushed now and no longer shy. A moment later, they were both pushing the denim and underwear to his thighs and Tessa let out a gasp at the sight of him. It was always such a surprise to see that part of a man—maybe in between lovers she forgot how big and hard they got, how utterly different their bodies were from hers. But like the rest of Lucky, this part was beautiful, and she automatically reached out to skim her fingers down his length, as silky to the touch as it was smooth and rigid.

  She peered up at him, and as much as she didn’t necessarily want to cover up the work of masculine art that was his penis, she asked, “Do you have a condom?”

  He gazed down at her touching him and appeared almost unable to speak—until finally he said, “Um, yeah,” his voice now scratchy. He took his jeans completely off and dug in the back pocket until he extracted a small foil square from a well-worn leather wallet.

  He sat on the bed near her, ripping into it, then said, his voice still surprisingly strained, “Put it on me?” It moved her, made her stomach flinch, that a guy who’d probably had as many sexual encounters in the last few years as she’d had fantasies was so affected by this.

  She took the condom from him and balanced it at the tip of his shaft, then slowly rolled downward. Her hands shook, excited and unused to being intimate like this, but she didn’t care—she wasn’t embarrassed or nervous with Lucky anymore. And when she was done, she followed the raw, blatant urge to wrap her hand around his solid length and gently caress, squeeze him through the thin rubber, listening as he sucked in his breath in response.

  Then she lay back on her pillow, so ready she could barely breathe.

  Though as Lucky moved back between her parted thighs, coming to hover over her, a matter of practicality bit at her. “I should warn you,” she said, “it’s . . . been awhile for me. So . . . it might be a little difficult at first.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said without hesitation. “You’re completely wet.” And as if to prove it, he smoothly slid two fingers into her below, the entrance jolting her body lightly and causing another moan to erupt from her throat. It had been so long since a man had been inside her in any way whatsoever that the sensation struck her powerfully.

  Even so, she replied, “But you’re so . . .”

  “What?” he whispered.

  She swallowed. “Big.” And he was. Not scary big, but good big. She instantly remembered Rachel once describing Mike exactly that way—and now she found herself thinking that some things must run in the family.

  “I’ll be careful, babe,” he rasped, lowering his body further over hers now. “I promise.” Then he lifted one hand to her cheek. “I’d never wanna hurt you.”

  And with that, he pressed into her, the sensation welcome yet undeniably snug—enough that she had to grit her teeth and hold her breath for a few seconds.

  Until she realized the short moment of discomfort was over, almost as soon as it had begun, and he was inside her, and . . . oh God, had anything ever felt so wonderful, so right? She peered up into his eyes and said exactly what she was thinking. “You feel sooo good.”

  He let out a heavy breath. “Aw, damn, babe—you, too.” Then he shut his eyes, murmuring, “So warm and tight around my cock.”

  Tessa sucked in her breath at the words—and that’s when he began to move in her. Slowly at first, but when she responded, he thrust harder, faster, more rhythmically. Each stroke connected with her deepest inner core, and she remembered that as great as orgasms were, she’d always loved this part, too—the primal movements, the sense of being filled up by a man. And she was loving it with Lucky now. She was loving the way he made every second of it more intimate by looking into her eyes the whole time, raw heat emanating from them.

  Lucky was overcome with lust. But it was more than just plain lust. It was all mixed up and entangled with her passion and simple beauty. He drew back at moments—still moving in her, their pelvises still joined but their bodies otherwise apart—to study her: her face, h
er breasts. He molded those breasts in his hands now, exploring their shape, their weight, teasing the taut pink nipples with his thumbs. Like most guys he knew, he was generally drawn to large breasts, but Tessa’s smaller ones held him entranced. Everything about her body, in fact, was so delicate—yet over time she’d begun to seem like a pretty tough chick to him, and something about the contradiction captivated him all the more.

  After a while, he rolled them onto their sides. He remained buried in her tight warmth, but their movements slowed, and he kissed her some more, caressed those pretty little breasts more gently.

  When she looped one leg over his hip, he reached to massage her round ass, at the same time pulling her closer, more snug against him. He was sheathed to the hilt, but he suffered the urge to somehow be even deeper inside her. And he found himself rolling onto his back, lifting her up until she straddled him and then began to grind.

  “Aw, babe,” he murmured, liking the rhythm she took on, the untamed way she moved her lithe, slender body. He liked gliding his hands over her breasts, waist, hips, as he watched her.

  Although almost as soon as she started, he could see her getting more heated up, could hear her labored breath, could see in her half-shut eyes that she was nearing orgasm again. Damn—it hadn’t been long since the first one and she was already that close? It excited the hell out of him, and he wanted to take her there.

  “Bend closer,” he whispered. “Let me . . .” He didn’t bother finishing, just raising as much as he could, lifting his mouth toward her breasts. In response, she leaned nearer, lowering one hardened peak to his waiting tongue. He licked at it just once, then latched on and suckled her, instinctively knowing she needed to feel it harder now—to take her tumbling into ecstasy.

  In response, she moaned and arched deeper and he soaked up the pleasure of tasting that engorged nipple, hard as a pebble between his lips.

  “Oh—oh God,” she whimpered then, and he watched as her rhythm changed, as her head dropped back, her lips parting, her eyes falling closed. He held her hips, continued pulling on her breast with his mouth. Then she cried out, again, again, and the climax rocked her so hard he almost felt it vibrate through his own body.

  As she slumped over onto his chest, he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her temple, whispering to her. “You okay, babe?”

  “Mmm,” she purred against his sweat-slick skin.

  And Lucky kept moving in her. Because he couldn’t not move in her right now. Though they weren’t the deep, rougher thrusts his body urged him to deliver, but instead motions as soft as he could manage while she basked in the afterglow of pleasure.

  Yet when she whispered against his neck, “I want to make you come, too, Lucky,” that changed everything. It gave him permission to drive harder into her sweet moisture. And thank God, since he couldn’t have held back any longer if he’d tried.

  “Aw, now—now, babe,” he bit off through clenched teeth, and then he was lost in the mindless pleasure of exploding inside her, plunging deep with each long burst that rushed through him and out. As he came, she cried out in response to his strokes, her hands clutching at his chest, then falling around his neck. She kissed his mouth, his jaw, then relaxed against him, clearly as spent as he was.

  They lay quietly after that, and Lucky listened to the silence of the night. Only it wasn’t really silence. The chirps of crickets came in through the windows and he almost thought he could make out the wild white noise of the waterfall in the woods, but he was surely imagining that. Maybe what he heard was just . . . peace. And maybe he didn’t listen for it very often and had just missed it—or maybe this was simply the first real time he’d felt it in a while.

  Not the peace of hiding unbothered, not the peace of blending in so no one would know he had secrets. But real, true peace. In that strange moment, every muscle in his body was relaxed and he didn’t have a care in the world. Not Mike’s disdain, not his past, not worries over how different he was from Tessa, not even the worry over figuring out how to be a good father for Johnny. In Tessa’s bed, in Tessa’s arms, everything else went away.

  By the time light filtered through the curtains on Tessa’s bedroom window, they’d had sex three times. Or was it four? Sleep had come in between, but repeatedly Lucky had awakened her—gently. With a kiss on her shoulder, or fingers easing between her legs, and oh—one time he’d simply leaned against her from behind, his rock-hard erection nestling at the center of her ass. After one mere welcoming sigh from her, he’d sheathed himself and eased between her legs and gloriously up inside her.

  Now Tessa felt more replete than she’d known she could. And certainly more replete than she’d expected upon going to bed last night. She found herself trying to suppress a bit of giddy laughter at the realization that Lucky had actually shown up at her door, and that finally, finally, her long and frustrating sex drought was over!

  Turning on her side, she watched him sleep. In one way, he looked out of place here—almost too large for her bed, and as if everything about him lay in stark contradiction to the soft, feminine pastels she’d used in the room.

  On the other hand, though, he looked . . . surprisingly serene, and she could almost remember him as a little boy. She hadn’t really known him then—but she vaguely recalled him from elementary school. He’d been just an average kid back before Anna had disappeared—she remembered her mother once referring to him as “that nice little Romo boy,” when he’d sold her some candy bars for his Boy Scout troop. She thought now, asleep, he was like that nice little boy—innocent. Wasn’t everyone at their most pure, most innocent, when they slept?

  When his eyes fluttered open, she almost wondered if he’d somehow felt her looking at him. “Hey,” he rasped, eyes heavy-lidded, voice shaded with leftover lust.

  She smiled softly, just as glad to see that innocence replaced with heat. “Hey yourself.”

  “Doin’ okay, hot stuff?”

  “Doing very well, thank you.” She saw no reason to be coy—they’d had undeniably great sex and she was still wallowing in the joy of it.

  He flashed one of his most wicked grins. “You have a lot of orgasms.”

  A small laugh escaped her since, indeed, she’d had so many she’d lost count. A first for her, certainly. And no wonder she felt equal parts joyous and exhausted now. “Like I said, it’s been a while.”

  He cocked his head against the pillow. “And here I thought it was just me getting you off.”

  “It was you,” she promised him, voice low. And though she’d have loved to engage in pillow talk all morning long, something more important nagged at her. “About last night, Lucky—I’m really sorry.”

  He narrowed his gaze on hers. “What are you sorry for?”

  She lowered her eyes slightly as she replied. “If I hadn’t come to Gravediggers with Rachel, Mike never would have shown up. And . . . none of the stuff that happened after that would have happened.”

  His face went a bit slack at the reminder, but then he resumed being his more usual, confident self. “Way I see it—if you hadn’t shown up at Gravediggers, I wouldn’t be in your bed right now. I wouldn’t know how gorgeous your naked body is. I wouldn’t know how warm and tight you feel when I’m inside you.”

  Tessa’s face flushed with warmth, both from excitement and being unaccustomed to such sexy talk.

  “So if I had to take a right to the jaw to get all that, don’t worry, hot stuff, it was well worth it.”

  She bit her lip, noticing now that the flesh beneath his eye was red this morning and a little puffy. And she was flattered by his words, but . . . “Still, I know that was hard on you. You didn’t have any warning it was coming. And it was my fault.”

  Yet Lucky just shook his head against her yellow pillowcase. “It could have happened anytime, anywhere. It was bound to.”

  Tessa thought he was letting her off easy. Given that Lucky didn’t exactly frequent any Destiny hot spots, and probably only a few in Crestview, it really couldn�
��t have happened anywhere. But she appreciated his understanding—she hadn’t forgotten the pain she’d witnessed in his eyes last night.

  Although he was right—if she hadn’t been so bold, they wouldn’t have ended up like this. “So . . .” she ventured, “why did it take me turning into a wannabe biker chick for you to make a move on me?”

  Propping on his elbow, he lowered his gaze, looking surprisingly sheepish. Finally, he focused those chocolate brown eyes back on her and said, “It’s hard to explain, babe, but . . . let’s just say I didn’t think I’d be . . . quite right for you.”

  “And now?” she asked.

  “I decided to quit thinking so much.”

  She smiled in response, still trying to get used to the notion that Lucky had just spent the night with her. “Want some breakfast?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t usually eat it, but you did give me a workout. What’d you have in mind?”

  She thought it over—wanting to offer him something more than the toast or muffin she usually ate. Then she remembered the waffle iron her mother had given her as a housewarming gift. “Do you like waffles?”

  “Is there anybody who doesn’t like waffles?”

  She smiled. “Waffles it is.”

  After breakfast, they parted ways—but not for long. It was Sunday, yet since Tessa had more hours than usual scheduled at Under the Covers this coming week, she decided to put in some time on Lucky’s kitchen today. After tossing on a fitted tee, denim shorts, and tennis shoes, she was out the door.

  Turned out he didn’t keep much of a typical work schedule, either, as she found him sanding down a motorcycle in the garage when she showed up, getting it ready for paint. He looked over and smiled when he saw her, then bent one finger toward himself, motioning her closer. When she approached, he leaned down to give her a kiss.

  Mmm, it rippled all through her, just as electrifying as the very first one less than twenty-four hours ago. “I could get used to this,” she said teasingly—then almost regretted it, worried he’d take it wrong and think she was implying some kind of long-term affair.