11. Untouched Garden

ELEVEN

UNTOUCHED GARDEN

KRIS

B ailey doesn’t pull away when my mouth closes over hers again. Except her stomach growls like a monster between us.

I arch an eyebrow. Wherever tonight in this cabin leads, I can’t have her famished. “Should we see what Mal packed for us in that newlywed basket?”

“Please? I’m starving.”

I bring the basket between us and tear open the plastic covering it. She lays the items out one by one on the bed. “The only food appears to be pepperoni sticks, a salami stick, and crackers, hopefully not stale.”

“These items look like cheap things you can buy at any dollar store.” I wrinkle my nose and pick them up, checking for expiration dates.

“Okay, food snob. We’re stuck here overnight with no restaurant in sight. We can’t be picky at a time like this.” She holds the next item up. “There’s also this jar of something.”

I take the jar from her hand and squint in the dimly lit room to read the label. “Chocolate body sauce. Interesting.”

“What is this?” She peers deeper inside the basket and pulls out a ball of feathers tied on the end of a long piece of string. “Is it a cat toy? And wait, there’s one more thing.” She pulls out a ping-pong paddle.

I snicker. “I think old Mal should change the name of her motel to Naughty Time for Newlyweds.”

“No. You don’t think these are sex toys, do you?”

“Oh yes. Mal is a kinky old woman. Stuck here in the mountains all alone, running this place by herself? Jeez, I hope there aren’t any cameras watching and recording us.” I laugh and pretend to scope the place out, checking every corner.

Bailey laughs too, in stitches, adding more funny comments about great hiding places in the room for a camera.

After checking them all out, just in case, when I finally return to her, I hold up the feathers for inspection.“I think Mal is a smart woman. And this looks like fun.”

“No. Do not get any ideas.” She scoots back from me, a sparkle in her eyes, but too late, I advance on her like she’s the goalie and I have the puck heading straight for her with every intention to score.

“Ticklish, Irish?”

“Very. So don’t you dare.”

I straddle her, holding the string in my mouth, the feathers dangling.With her hands on my thighs, her laughing slides breathlessly into something more sensual; she bites her lip in a moment between us where our eyes connect. My chest heaves. I hover over her and guide the feathers across her collarbone, shoulder to shoulder. Goosebumps breakout across her skin and she giggles.

“Not fair. Are you ticklish, too?” She claws at the buttons of my shirt to get them undone as fast as possible. I sit back on my haunches and cast the shirt off, reveling in the twinkle of her eyes and her breath hitching. Her fingertips reach and explore, caressing my skin.

“You have abs and pecs like a god immortalized in chiseled marble.” What man doesn’t want to hear those words from the lips of a woman underneath of him?

She reaches up and takes the object from my mouth, and tests me, drawing the feathers along every abdominal muscle.

I don’t flinch, not one bit. “Never been ticklish much.”

“While I admire your self-control, I think I would feel better if you’d at least fake a laugh.” She snickers.

“Ha ha ha. Will that do?” We both snort and bust up.

“I have to admit, this entire night has been the most fun I’ve had with a man in a long time.”

“You dazzled at the wedding. You held your head high, put up with their shit, and the best part is…you left with me.” My lips land on hers, but she pulls back.

“Kris, is this a good idea? Should we stop?”

“Hell no.”

“No, as in it’s not a good idea or no, we shouldn’t stop?”

“Both.”

Our lips melt together. I can no longer hide my attraction to Bailey. I want her with a burning desire. Although her question echoes in my head. Is this a good idea? I’m riding a heady wave of Bailey exposure, twenty-four hours of her making me forget all about our past. Making me forget I’m supposed to be a reformed playboy to make the team PR manager happy.

Fuck it. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring us, I only know we have tonight. For one night, she’s mine.

Our kisses gain urgency, our breaths ragged as we cling to each other. “Tell me you want me, Irish,” I demand and kiss down her creamy flesh and teasing cleavage. I snuck glances at it all night, trying to picture how beautiful she’d be in the nude.

“I take you for a smart man, so I think you know I do, no matter how I’ve tried to fight it.” She finishes her sentence with a gasp and moans as I inhale her nipple through her dress.

I hover on one elbow, giving my hand freedom to roam over her body, every curve and swell. Her half-lidded eyes, greener than ever, beckon me like a sexy siren.

“Must have you naked now.” We both lift up and I help her slip off the gold satin overhead, reveling at the sight of her bare breasts, creamy skin and white lace thong. “You are a treasure.”

I waste no time engaging with her nipples, the pink pebbles hardening with every swirl of my tongue as I claim each one in succession.Her breathless gasps and moans become the musical anthem of our night.

“Your taste. I need to know it.” I groan, slowly marking her skin with nips and sucks, heading to the apex of her thighs.

“Are-are you going down?” She asks, her tone unmistakably anxious, her body tensing when I’m almost there.

“I planned on it.” I stop at her navel, swirling my tongue around it. She doesn’t move or speak. I push up, searching her face.

“Bailey? Tell me what that asshole wouldn’t do for you. I know he couldn’t have satisfied you.”

Her arms cross over her eyes, and she shakes her head.

“Hey, it’s okay, tell me.” I have my suspicions. “He didn’t go down on you, did he?”

She blows a breath out like she’d been holding it. “He said it wasn’t his thing, that he didn’t like being between my thick thighs.”

“Goddamn idiot,” I mutter, along with a few other choice words about the asshole who never deserved her. “Well, it’s my thing. And your thighs are perfect for me. I could spend all night with my face buried between your legs, if that would please you. Only if you want me to.”

“But I’m not, you know, manicured. I wasn’t expecting this.”

I smile to myself because I could see that. Her body waits before me like a wild, untouched garden to be explored and claimed.

“That’s not a deal breaker, Bailey. I don’t mind if you don’t. Will you let me give you this tonight? Let me please you.”

She nods, bringing her hands to my neck, pulling herself up to seal my lips with hers. A few sultry kisses later, she whispers the magic word. “Please, please me.”

Yes. “Gladly. Now relax, Irish, let me show you how a real man takes good care of a woman.” I continue my pursuit, bending forward, kissing down her torso.

Gently, I remove her sexy thong, tossing the tiny scrap aside. I caress through her hairs, and urge her thighs apart, giving me access to her precious core. I inhale her sweet aroma, kissing the inside of her thighs, the anticipation of tasting her too much. With the feathery flicks of my tongue, I tease and ease through her folds, finding my reward.

“There she is. Your poor neglected clit. Rescue has arrived.” At my cocky words, I hear her soft giggle above me, which only encourages my exploration. I flatten my tongue and lick, then suck, then back to flicks, repeating over and over until she squirms beneath me, reaching that edge.

“Yes. I missed this so much.” Her fingers weave through my hair, pressing on my head. Her hips roll and buck as she makes desperate little mewling sounds, begging. “Don’t stop, Kris. Don’t. Ever. Stop.”

I’m not going anywhere, glued to the spot between her legs like I belong here. Pleasing Bailey is an aphrodisiac all its own. I pump a finger into her wet center, then two, and stretching her with three, my fingers slick with her wetness. My hard rod waits impatiently in my pants for his turn.

She responds so well. I can’t stop staring at her face flushed with pleasure, her lips parted with panting breaths. Her eyes are closed like she surrenders to every sensation I bring her, while her body arches, every muscle taut and quivering with pleasure.

All at once, with a drawn-out moan, she presses my head harder into her, shaking and crying, coming apart on my tongue. The taste of her is like the sweetest victory, rivaling any I’ve had on the ice.

Only I don’t give her a moment’s rest. With her skin glistening with sweat and flushed with desire, my own movements are fluid and practiced, a well-oiled machine that knows exactly how to bring her pleasure now. Each ascent more thrilling and intense than the last, her cries of ecstasy echo off the walls twice more until she’s honey, spent.

I blaze a trail of kisses up, hovering over her. “Kiss me, Irish. Taste everything you’ve been missing.”

With hazy eyes, she sucks on my tongue, moaning, receiving the salty sweetness.

“I’m dying to slide my cock into you, but if you need a rest…?” I ask.

“I need you.” She bites her bottom lip, so seductively.

“Good thing I remembered to bring a condom.” I smile and kiss her nose, lifting off the bed to undress.

“Only one?” She purrs, stretching on the bed like a satisfied little kitty. I like where this night is headed.