Searching for Always (Searching For 4)

Stone didn't fight it. Leaning over, he sighed and tongued her nipple, nibbling, until she woke with a moan spilling from her lips. He smiled and didn't lose his pace. She rolled over and offered herself up to him with an open surrender that made him grow back to rock-hard status. Twining her fingers behind his neck, she arched up, asking for more.

He moved slower this time, being more thorough as he tasted every inch of her. The sensitive curve of her hip, behind her knee, the part where neck met shoulder. As if she knew this time was different, she didn't push the pace but met him stroke for stroke. Her hands fisted him and rubbed up and down his dick in slow, silky movements that had precum spilling onto her fingers. She rubbed the tip, and kept her grip strong and tight, bringing him right to the edge in a matter of moments.

They fell back into each other like a poem in which each stanza eased into the next. The stroke of her hand, the slide of her tongue, the warmth of her breath, the lilting sound of his name on her lips. It was as if they'd spent an eternity waiting for each other rather than engaging in one night of carnal sex. Stone fought hard, but when she climbed on top of him and took him deep inside, he almost sighed. The heat grew to blistering proportions, yet she rode him at a slow, intense pace, building up to the rhythm that would allow them both to shatter together.

She cried out. Her body arched, thrusting her small breasts high in the air, red hair streaming down her back. He watched every precious moment, taking it in, and then she collapsed forward onto his chest with him still inside her.

Stone's second orgasm was even more intense than the first, as if the Fates mocked his plan and were having a joke at both of their expenses. This was the crap they spoke of in chick flick movies and Jane Austen novels. The garbage they spewed when sex and lust mixed with love and commitment. He didn't believe in any of it; yet, as his balls tightened up and he exploded, releasing his seed, a possessive ferociousness claimed him, driving him to take her again and remind her she belonged to him.

Mine, his mind screamed. She's mine.

Shut up. This is about sex.

The voice fell quiet. Panting, trying to gather his sanity, he fell back to the bed with her still cuddled against his chest. Time ticked by. They lay quietly in the dark. He waited for her to ask him her endless questions that he couldn't answer.

But she didn't speak.

And once again, her breathing deepened and she slept.

Stone lay awake for a long time, wondering what he was going to do.

sixteen

STONE! WAKE UP!"

"Five more minutes," he groaned, rolling away. His body was shaken harder than a bad eighties Polaroid picture, causing him to open one eye. Where was he? Oh, Arilyn's place. After sex. Great sex. Hell, the best sex he had ever had in his entire life, including when he lost his virginity to Sally Poole in the tenth grade. And that had been epic.

She squinted those incredible green eyes and moved closer. Poked him as if he were a dead body she was trying to investigate. He held back a laugh. Damned if she wasn't as cute in the morning as when he got her all riled. Her hair was a tangled mess, her eye makeup was smeared, and a crease from the sheets ran across her right cheek.

"Stone! You have to go!"

His other eye winked open. Huh? His gaze dropped to where her peach-tinted nipples peeked from over the covers. Had they really fallen into slumber after only two times? He needed to make up for his lack of planning. The emotion stuff actually threw him off his game, but he'd get back to the main goal of wringing as much pleasure from her as possible and--what? "Wait. Are you throwing me out?"

She gave an impatient huff and climbed out of the bed. The morning light spilled through the window and bounced off her skin. She was gorgeous. She seemed frantic to find something she had lost, opened up a closet, and muttered to herself as she finally tugged something out and wrapped it around her. The silky black robe clung to her skin the way he wanted to. He lost the vision of her bare ass and mourned. "You have to go! I completely forgot that Pinky is at your house, and she'll be scared in a new environment, and you need to feed her and change the water and the poor thing hasn't been walked." She nibbled at her lower lip, ginger brows snapped in a frown, and took out a pair of striped socks. Hopping on one leg, she donned the socks while he enjoyed the bobbing up and down of her breasts. "Are you listening to me? You need to get home to Pinky."

"I heard you." Only the first day of being a dog owner and he hated it. Why the hell would anyone want to leave a warm bed and a gorgeous half-naked woman to take care of a dog? Were people truly nuts? He sat up and gave her his best come-hither smile. "Half an hour more won't make a difference to Pinky. But it will to me." His dick screamed with happiness as she seemed to struggle with the temptation.

Then she belted her robe tighter. "After you take care of Pinky."

"I live across town!" he bellowed. "You're seriously kicking me out this early? Pinky won't care. Hell, she probably pooped in the house anyway; I'll deal with it later."

The familiar stubborn lines of her face told him a battle was about to be launched. "Pinky needs structure and routine. She needs to trust you. Leaving her alone with no care will only enforce what the old owners did to her. I'm sorry, Stone, but fostering is a full-time job and it's important. You have to take it seriously."

He glared at her, still aroused, and now mightily pissed off. "I didn't volunteer for this shit," he reminded her. "You forced me, remember? You can't call me out on not doing a job right that I never wanted in the first place!"

She pressed her lips together. "Semantics. Now, get dressed, take care of Pinky, and we'll see where that leaves us later."

Forget this! Now, she wasn't gonna get any because he was mad. He got out of bed buck naked and stabbed a finger at her. "Fine. I'll go and take care of the rat fink. But next time you want a bit of morning sex, you'll . . . you'll . . ."

"Yes?" she prodded, her eyes filled with amusement.

"You'll be denied!"

He ignored her quiet laughter, stomped to the bathroom, and slammed the door. He dressed in his suit again, totally flaunting the whole man-whore walk-of-confidence vibe, and made his way into the kitchen. This time Robert didn't come f

lying at him but looked up from his food bowl with an eager look on his face. Stone smothered a groan. The dog would be with Arilyn for two weeks, so he should try to make friends so he wasn't scared shitless. Hunkering down, trying not to wince, he held out his hand. "Here, boy. Ugh, Robert. Good boy."

The dog couldn't wag his tail, but his ear pricked. He dragged himself away from his precious food bowl, moving slowly, as if he knew Stone was nervous. Finally, he got close enough to push his wet nose into Stone's palm, nuzzling.

Huh. Kinda cute.

As if he realized he'd gotten through round one, he moved an inch closer and rubbed his head against his hand, giving him a quick lick. Stone's muscles relaxed, and a sense of comfort flowed through him. Reaching out with the other hand in careful motions, Stone stroked his body, eliciting a rumble of happiness and another lick.

Arilyn laughed. "I knew it wouldn't take you long to be friends. There hasn't been a person Robert hasn't won over."

Stone looked up. With her shapely bare legs peeking out from under the silk, her socks pulled up to mid-calf, he longed to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. Drag her back to bed for the entire day, until they both couldn't walk normally. Instead, he tried to hold on to his grouchiness at being thrown out.

"Can I have any coffee before I go?"

"Sure, I have a pot here. Black?"

"Yes."

She fixed him a mug, and with one last pat, Stone stood and took a grateful sip of the hot brew.

Then choked.

"What the hell is this?" he asked. "This isn't coffee!"

She cocked her head with confusion. "Yes, it is. Organic beans specially roasted."

He stared at the mug in horror. "Is this decaffeinated?" he whispered.

"Of course. Caffeine is bad for you, Stone. Once you get used to it, you'll never notice the difference."

He threw the cup in the sink, trying to hold on to his temper. God help him, they'd break up right now if they didn't straighten this out. "Like I didn't notice you took away my meat and replaced it with frozen soy? No. Arilyn, I need real coffee. Black. With lots of caffeine. I don't care if it's not good for you, I can't function without it."

She stuck up her chin in that stubborn way of hers. "Caffeine is an addiction like smoking."