Sarah's Seduction (Men of August 2)

And she did. She knew she did. Her body, her heart and her head were waging a battle she was afraid all would lose.

“Let me stay with you tonight, Sarah,” he asked her softly. “I need you.”

The throb of that need echoed around the jeep.

“No.” She threw the door to the jeep open, nearly falling out in her haste. “I can’t, Brock. Not yet. Not yet.”

She didn’t run, but she rushed. She was aware of him getting out of the vehicle, following her. As the key twisted in the lock, he flattened his body against her back.

“Think of this, Sarah,” he whispered in her ear.

She moaned roughly as his hand moved up her thigh, one arm going around her waist as his fingers moved aside the leg band of her panties.

“Brock,” she gasped, feeling his fingers tunneling through the lush curls to the saturated flesh below.

“Feel how wet you are.” He pushed a finger deep inside her and she felt the walls of her cunt grip it, suck at it. “See how much you want me.”

She opened her mouth to speak.

“Sarah, mention that damned fictitious alien again and I’ll lose what little control I have.”

She clamped her mouth shut. She moaned instead, then cried out when his finger retreated.

“I won’t force you to ask me to stay, Sarah.” He breathed against her ear. “I’ll leave for now. But I promise, this isn’t over.”

He opened the door for her, standing still, hard as she stepped weakly inside.

“Do you need me to tuck you in?”

She shook her head, dazed. She needed him to fuck her blind. She was already crazy.

“I’ll see you soon, then.” He kissed her lips softly, then turned and walked away.

“I’m insane,” she whispered as she heard the door to the jeep slam.

She closed the door, locked it, then leaned her head against the glass.

“Completely insane.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A day passed, then two. On the third day Sarah was convinced that Brock had finally given up on her. Dressed in a bikini she picked up her bottle of water and walked out to the pool out back. It wasn’t as large as the August pool, but it suited her needs.

She swam for a while, working out the energy that seem to fill her, then pulled herself onto the deck and stretched out on the large foam pad that protected her back from the hard concrete.

Lazy, dozing, she allowed the heat of the sun to warm her body, ignoring the languid sexuality that pulsed just under her skin. She couldn’t forget the touch of Brock’s hands or his mouth. The seductive cadence of his voice or the dark promise in his eyes.

Her nipples beaded as the memories seared through her body. The flesh between her thighs heated and she felt the silky warmth of her body’s need building beneath the swimsuit.

Her hands touched her stomach, moving over the skin as she thought of him. His touch. His hands calloused and warm, fingers broad and experienced. She shivered, her own touch evoking the sensations she had felt beneath his. Her vagina clenched, her stomach muscles tightening as her fingers ran over them, her nails barely scraping, adding an extra edge to the sensation.

She wanted him, she didn’t deny that. She couldn’t deny it. She wanted until it kept her awake at night, tossing and turning as she fought the desperate emptiness of her body. Brock had filled her. He filled her to overflowing when he thrust inside her, so hard and hot she couldn’t contain her cries. She needed it again. Needed his cock throbbing in her, making her mindless, unable to think, unable to listen to her fears.

The dual needs attacking her body, her mind, kept her in a constant state of confusion now. Her dreams were of Brock’s face, his kiss, his touch. But there were other hands stroking her as well, heated encouragements, low male growls as she cried out her frustration. She swore she wouldn’t think about that. She would think about Brock. Lust after Brock. It was Brock she had waited on, wanted so desperately all these years.

Her fingers moved to her lips. His kiss. She wanted to moan. His lips moving over hers, his tongue stroking the soft curves of her lips, sipping from her, nibbling at her. His kiss smothered objections, teased and cajoled, and whispered the sexy, hot words that left her panting for him. Explicit words. He hadn’t been shy in expressing his needs or desire he had for her.

Her neck. Her fingers stroked there, then down to the mounds of her breasts, tracing the soft flesh as they rose from the top of her bathing suit. The way his teeth scraped the skin. She glanced over her nipples, a whimpering moan exiting her throat. He had sucked her nipple with strong, sensual pulls of his mouth, his tongue and teeth scraping over them.