Kissing Kendall

“You like watching me jerk off?”

“Almost as much as I like this.” She strutted to the edge of the bed, lowered herself, and planted her knees on either side of his thighs before wrapping her hands around his wrists and bringing them up over his head. She ran her hands down his arms, keeping herself positioned so that her center hovered directly above his hard cock but didn’t touch it. It was fucking torture. Without hardly any effort he could pull his arms free, flip her, and sink balls deep inside her, but there was something about the way she was looking at him right now — half in awe and half out of her mind — that made him want to find out what she’d do next. He didn’t have to wait long. She lowered her head to his pecs and lapped at his flat, dusky nipple, drawing him into her mouth and sucking.

His moan echoed in the room, and he bucked against her just enough to bring his dick into direct contact with her.

She clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth. “I don’t think so. Not yet anyway.”

Still holding his arms in place, she scooted higher over him, kissing her way up across his shoulders and up his neck, teasing him within millimeters of losing all control.

“Just.” She brushed her lips across his but pulled away before it developed into a real kiss. “Fucking.”

He practically heard glass shattering at that moment when his control broke. Slipping free of her hold, he moved his hands to her round hips, rolled her over, and settled himself between her splayed legs and bent down to take her mouth with an intensity that shook him to the core. His tongue swept inside her mouth, teasing her until she was writhing beneath him, her busy hands gliding over his thighs to his ass and urging him wordlessly to move against her. On this point, they were in agreement. He lowered himself until his cock lay nestled against her core, her dam

p panties the only thing between him and her pussy’s slick tight grip.

His hands were everywhere at once, caressing her tits, skimming across her stomach, and finding their way between her panties and her silky folds. He dipped a finger into her entrance, his thumb circling her attention-starved clit as her wanton moan filled the hotel room. The sound reached somewhere deep and primal inside him, but he wanted to push her, make sure she always remembered this, remembered him.

He dipped his head lower, taking the elastic band of her panties between his teeth and dragging them down her legs. Pushing her legs back open as wide as they could go, he kissed and licked his way up her calves and thighs, not stopping until he arrived at her slick entrance.

“Say it, Aubrey,” he said, his words pressing up against her swollen flesh as his tongue and fingers worked in concert.

“Say what?”

God, that breathy about-to-come tremor in her voice nearly killed him, but he had to do this. He had to prove the point. “That this is just fucking. That it doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re an asshole, Carter.”

“Yes.” He felt her tighten against him, so close to coming and he stopped, stilling right as she was on the edge. “Say it anyway.”

“It’s just fucking.”

Like a gullible fool, he would have sworn he heard a catch in her voice but he knew better. She’d lied to him for the entire cruise. Why stop now? He sure as hell wasn’t. Renewing his efforts, he lapped at her clit and worked his fingers inside her, focused on making her come so he could block the rest of it out. Then, her muscles locked and she came undone.

Her taste still on his lips, he leaned back and grabbed his jeans, pulled a condom from his wallet, and unrolled it over his cock as he watched her come down from her orgasm. He wouldn’t forget the sight. Her blonde hair fanned around her as she looked up at him with that dazed, satisfied look in her eyes. It was almost enough to make him forget. God knew, he wanted to because Aubrey was right, this had never been just fucking.

And when he sank into her, slowly inch by inch until he filled her completely, he knew that for all of this being a way to make her remember him that he’d be the one who’d never forget. Fuck she felt so good, so tight and hot around him and he gave into the moment. Forgetting everything before and after as he thrust into her again and again, reaching down between them to roll his thumb over her straining clit. It didn’t take long to put him on the edge as she rose up to meet his every stroke.

“Aubrey I—”

He had no idea what he would have said after that because her orgasm hit hard, his name on her lips as she tightened around his dick and he came with her.

Catching his breath as he held her in his arms still riding high, it wasn’t so much an epiphany as an acceptance that struck him. Whatever had happened, whatever had gone down, they had to figure this out. She’d fucked up. He’d fucked up. But together, they could make it right.

“Aubrey,” he said, rolling over on his side so they could talk face to face.

Shit.

Her eyes were closed and her breathing steady. Okay, it could wait. He’d get cleaned up, she’d get some sleep, and then they’d talk, straighten the whole thing out. He got up and went to the bathroom to do just that, but when he walked back out, Aubrey was gone.

The walk to the U.S. Embassy from the hotel was a short one but even if it had been across the island, Aubrey didn’t think it would be long enough for her to pull herself together.

Everything hurt and it was her own fault. She’d stopped ugly crying in the hotel lobby bathroom so that was a bonus, but she doubted it made much difference considering the looks people were sending her way as she walked the couple of blocks to the embassy. She’d known from the beginning that the truth would come out but she’d let herself pretend it would all work out. She should know better. That only happened in the movies. Well The Admiral wasn’t coming in to save the day in this one. By the time she got to the embassy, the entrance gate was shut and the sign on the front of the guard post said they wouldn’t open again until the next morning.

It was all she could do not to crumble up into a ball right there on the sidewalk and cry. Fisting her hands, she sucked in a breath and tried to think. Falling apart now wouldn’t help. She’d do that later when she got back to Salvation and the boring life in the bakery that was sounding better and better with each broken heartbeat.

An older man in a suit walking by paused in front of her. “Miss your cruise?” he asked, his American accent unmistakable.

“Yeah.” She sucked in a deep breath, willing herself not to give in to the tears she’d been fighting back since she walked out of Carter’s hotel room. “My friends are on board, I need to let them know I’m okay.”