P.J. Mellor

Between The Sheets


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up his toned legs, pausing at the sacks nesting easily by the most erect penis she’d ever remembered seeing. It seemed to pulse, its dark head shining in the lights of the pool.

      When she could find her voice, she murmured, “Maybe you should take a dip in the pool to cool off, Junior.”

      “Join me.”

      Slowly, she shook her head, trailing a fingertip beneath the crotch of her panties, the feel of her excitement stealing her breath.

      He stepped to the edge of the pool and looked back over his shoulder. “Okay. For now. But I like to watch, too.”

      He entered the water with barely a splash, slicing through it in sure, silent strokes.

      It shouldn’t have been so overwhelmingly sexy that it left her gasping for air, increasing the strokes along her slick folds.

      He flipped to his back. The sight pushed her over the edge, nearly drowning her in the all-consuming pleasure of her self-induced climax.

      His hands curved over the brick coping, then he hoisted up his lean, perfect body until he stood before her in all his sleek, naked perfection.

      A thrill shot through her when he turned, and she saw the swim had not cooled his lust. In fact, if anything, he looked even larger.

      “Now it’s your turn,” he said in a low, dangerously sexy voice. “Strip for me, pretty lady.”

      She wouldn’t consider it just because she was turned on. She wouldn’t consider it just because Connor was the first man to sexually arouse her in a very long time. She wouldn’t consider it just because she was almost desperate to make a sale.

      But the total of all those things made an irresistible combination.

      Slowly, she peeled off her jacket. The top and bra immediately followed.

      She leaned back, eyes locked with his, while she squeezed her nipple with one hand and continued petting her clitoris through her wet panties with the other.

      Connor made a sort of growling sound and took a step toward her, one hand extended.

      “Come any closer,” she warned, “and I’ll put my clothes back on.”

      He stopped and dropped his hand. “Then take off the rest. I want to…see all of you.”

      She tsked and shook her head. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Junior. I need to hear you say exactly what you want to see. And do.” She spread her legs a little farther, pushing the scrap of fabric aside to tease them both. “Say it.”

      “Strip. I want you naked. I…I want to watch you pleasure yourself.”

      “Is that all you want?” Her fingers flicked her swollen folds. She bit back a moan.

      “No. After you’re done, I want to taste your pussy. I want to lick up your juices and suck your clit until you scream and come again.”

      “And then what?” She eased her skirt over her hips and then shimmied out of her panties. Standing naked in her black stilettos, she kicked her clothing aside, then looked at him. “Don’t you want me to touch you?”

      “More than I want my next breath, darlin’.” He walked to her, pushing her back into the chair, then arranging her legs on either arm. He gently dragged his fingers along the suddenly renewed moisture on her folds, then stepped back, pulling another chair until it faced her.

      He sat down. “I like to watch, too.”

      Did she have the nerve to do it again? Then again, the idea excited her. Almost as much as the possibility of selling the house.

      Money. The thought made her wet. She imagined rolling around naked in millions of dollars. Her hand stroked faster. Just the smell of money made her feel like coming. Money was power to a lot of people, but for her it was more. It was an aphrodisiac.

      She peeked through heavy lids, her nipples tingling at the sight of Connor stroking his erect penis while he watched her masturbate. She licked her parched lips, wishing she could take a swipe of him. And she would. Soon.

      Her breath hitched. Moisture drenched her hand as waves of pleasure washed over her.

      When she could summon the strength to open her eyes, she watched Connor’s strokes and the truth hit her. It wasn’t pretty or even honorable. But it was the truth:

      She would most definitely fuck for money.

      6

      Connor’s legs wobbled, but he finally managed to navigate the steps into the hot, churning water of the spa. With a sigh, he sat on the slightly rough nonskid surface of the bench and waited for his heart rate to slow down before Andrea got into the water.

      He’d about exploded watching her get off by herself, her engorged folds glistening in the indirect lights of the pool. He slapped a weak hand on the cool decking until he felt the edge of his cargo shorts and dragged them closer. It was imperative the condoms be close at hand.

      Sure, he’d planned to finally get horizontal with Andrea back at his hotel, where there was a king-size bed and room service. But the spa proved too much of a temptation. It immediately became Plan B.

      Andrea was still sprawled on the chair, her head thrown back, hedonistically basking in the afterglow.

      He meant what he said earlier about wanting to taste her, suck her. But that would have to wait until he appeased the raging testosterone-crazed beast threatening to overtake him and make him the rutting animal his mother had always accused his father of being.

      Raising a weak hand, he motioned to her. “C’mere, darlin’. I need you.”

      One of Andrea’s eyes opened, and he held his breath, praying she wouldn’t say something to ruin what could turn out to be a beautiful experience.

      Instead, she stood and toed off her shoes before padding to the edge of the spa.

      Through the steam, he could see she was smooth all over. What was it Whitley had called it? Not a bikini wax. Brazilian, that was it. He ran an appreciative hand over the smooth, soft skin as she lowered into the water. Oh, yeah, he definitely approved.

      His hands shook so much it was difficult to roll the condom on, but he finally managed it.

      He pulled her to him, covering her mouth in the most carnal kiss he’d ever given or received.

      With their lips locked, he didn’t pause to savor the feel of her smooth skin rubbing against his as he lifted her to straddle his hips. All it took was one good, strong flex and he was where he wanted to be. A part of him longed to take it slow and easy, drawing out each sexually anguished moment. But another part, the part screaming for release, promised to take it slower next time as his arms locked around her rib cage to begin a wild ride.

      Warm water sloshed against his face and caressed his balls with each thrust. The roar in his ears drowned out the electric hum of the spa jets, the happy-sounding bubbles surrounding them.

      Andrea’s knees tightened against the sides of his chest. Her back arched. Had he not held her close, she’d have arched head-first back into the churning water as a low moan of satisfaction erupted from her throat, the tendons stretched taut.

      His climax roared down on him, taking his breath while his heart threatened to rip from his chest.

      Crushing her to him, heartbeat to heartbeat, he struggled to draw air into his starving lungs. His muscles vibrated, but he knew if he released her, he wouldn’t have the strength to pull her up out of the water should she slide.

      Andrea collapsed onto Connor’s chest, her face buried in his neck while she greedily sucked in air along with the mouth-watering scent of the man she’d just seduced.

      Sure, it had been an unbelievably unprofessional thing to do, but the climax she’d just experienced made it worthwhile. As her heart rate ceased its furious galloping, she frowned, trying