Five Alarm Alphas Page 4

  “Zac, stop.”

  Holy crap what was he doing? He’d not even taken her on a date and here he had his head under her dress. What type of man was he? He pulled out and smoothed down her skirts. “Shit. Sorry, Tab. I got carried away.”

  “No, I didn’t mind what you were doing, but can we please take this upstairs? Anyone can look in the front window and see us.”

  Considering they were down a dark hall, he doubted they could see anything. Until a car turned the corner, and the headlights swept a wide arc across the diner walls and ceiling. While the beam of light didn’t come directly down the hallway, it lit it up enough that if someone were to walk by they could see what was going on. The temptation sat on his tongue to tell her not to worry about it, to push her exhibitionist side, but Tabatha had to face her customers every day. In a town as small as Barnett Springs, she’d be vilified while no one would raise an eyebrow at him. And, more disturbing to him, what would stop someone else, with less altruistic purposes in mind, from thinking they could sample her wares.

  Altruistic, yeah, right. Like you’re doing this for her benefit.

  “We don’t have to do this. I can just pick you up Saturday night and we can go to the concert together.”

  Even in the dark he could see her scowl. “And leave me to finish myself off? Not a chance, Zachary Buchanan. You’re going to finish what you started.”

  No argument from him. “You got your keys?”

  She reached down to dig around in her apron pocket. “Right here.”

  The lust in his voice belied the control he displayed, control being tested by his impatience as she pulled her blouse across her exposed breasts. As much as he wanted to tell her to leave it, they had to go outside and he was damned if he’d give anyone else a chance to spy her beautiful body.

  Gravel filled his throat, forcing him to clear it to ask, “Ready?”

  After one last quick check of her outfit, Tabby nodded. He followed her out, forcing himself not to tap his toe while she closed the door and locked it, then walked the half dozen steps to the door leading to the apartments over the diner. He followed her up the steep, dimly lit staircase, admiring the swing of her skirt, especially now he knew her panties were in his pocket.

  If it weren’t for the danger that one of the other renters might open a door and see them, he would have been tempted to take her right there on the stairs. Once they were in front of her apartment, she muttered a soft curse when it took three tries to get the key into the lock.

  Then they were inside, alone. Something he’d dreamed of for days. Weeks. If he were honest with himself, years. The moment the door closed behind him, he flipped the deadbolt, and faced her.

  Only to find that she’d walked away from him. She’d crossed the room to turn on the light by the couch. Soft yellow light bathed her face, accentuating the gentle swell of her cleavage. One day he’d love to bury his cock between her tits but for now he’d take whatever she offered.

  He stayed in place, using the door to support him, as she placed her purse on the chair. He found a strange contentment watching her ritual as she went around the apartment, turning on a light in the kitchen, bending to scratch behind the ears of the three legged cat sitting on one end of the couch.

  “Hey, Yoshi, did you miss me?”

  As if in answer, the danged cat purred so loud he could hear it across the room.

  Lucky cat. If she were scratching him like that, he’d purr too.

  She untied her apron and draped it over her purse. One by one, she pulled out the hairpins that formed the fancy bun. Released, her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, one length curling around to point directly at the nipples pressing taut against the fabric.

  Like he needed a road map to those delicious buds.

  Instead of returning to him as he’d expected, she walked to the kitchen. She was nervous, he realized. Second thoughts?

  As she searched the refrigerator for God knew what, he closed the distance between them. “Tabby, it’s just me. I’m not going to pressure you.”

  She straightened, her gaze skittering over the apartment. Anywhere except at him. “I know.”

  He cupped his hand beneath her chin, raising it until she looked him straight in the eye. “Then what’s going on with you right now? Because this is not the confident woman who challenged me downstairs.”

  “It’s just…” she swallowed, the movement of her throat entrancing him. “I’ve dreamed of being with you for so long. Of us…”

  “Making love?”

  She nodded, dropping her eyelids so her lashes swept her cheeks, hiding those beautiful hazel eyes from his view. “What if it’s…”

  “Not as good as you hoped?” Shit, hadn’t he already started to prove downstairs that the heat between them was fuckin’ incendiary?

  “I want to be perfect for you.”

  “Oh, kitten, you are perfect.” He ran his thumb along her jaw, marveling at the softness of the skin covering that sometimes stubborn chin. “And besides, the good thing about makin’ love is if we don’t get it right tonight, we just get a do-over. As many times as we want.”

  Some of the tension melted and a slow smile spread from her lips up into her eyes. “There is that, I suppose.”

  “So do you want me to leave?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  It startled him for just a second when she cupped his head between her hands. Until she drew him down for another kiss, her tongue sweeping his mouth, encouraging him to match her fervor.

  Despite his blood roaring to take charge, he held back, afraid of scaring her off. He kept his hips away from her so she wouldn’t feel his rising erection. She pressed her body against him, and he lost his battle for distance.

  A moan filled the room, her moan, or his, or maybe both.

  Enough delaying. He needed her against him, skin-to-skin. He bent down and lifted her, carried her into her bedroom.

  Her eyes were dark with passion. Her breathing ragged. And she had never looked more beautiful in her life. He tackled the buttons of her blouse, this time following the line right the way to the bottom. He swept the fabric aside, pushing it off her shoulders until the garment pooled on the floor.

  The lights she’d turned on highlighted her nipples, dark and hard against the vintage white lace confection of her bra. Making a mental note to worship them with his tongue for a very long time, he turned his attention to the skirt and puffy netting blocking his view of the rest of her body. It turned out both were held up by an elastic waistband and in short order they joined the blouse at their feet.

  In the light of the apartment, he was startled to discover a tattoo on her hip. Not as big as the palm of his hand, the delicate pale colors entranced him. He knelt in front of her, tracing the bouquet of sunflowers and sunny-faced daisies.

  “Your favorite flowers.”

  “You remembered.”

  How could he not? One of his first memories was of her when she was five years old, clutching a bunch of those exact flowers she’d picked from the field and sticking them in a jar to decorate his family’s dinner table.

  He made a mental vow to have a matching bouquet sent to her in the morning.

  “It was a present to myself when my divorce finalized.”

  He feathered a kiss over her hip, tracing the ribbon around her hip to discover a tiny kitten batting at the end of the ribbon, only three of his legs visible. She’d even immortalized Yoshi. God, he loved this woman and her great big heart.

  His chest caught at the thought that he could screw things up. Ruin a good friendship.

  She stroked his hair, interrupting his musing. “I figured you’d seen it before when you called me kitten.”

  He shook his head. He’d never called anyone kitten before, and at the time it had surprised him—he wasn’t one for nicknames. But now she’d forever be his kitten.

  “Don’t you like it?”

  “It’s perfect.” Just like her.

&nb
sp; “You keep using that term, but I’m not. Just ask Bill.”

  “Hey,” He stood and rested his forehead against hers. “You are perfect if I say you are.”

  “And you’re always right, huh?”

  “Not always, but this time I am.”

  He lowered his head and kissed her again, taking his time to listen to every hitch of her breath. While they kissed, he let his hands range over her body, cupping her breasts, loving their warmth and their weight, how she moaned into the kiss with each stroke of his thumbs over her nipples.

  She was just as busy exploring him, tugging his shirt from the waistband of his jeans, sliding her palms beneath. The heat of her hand, the gentleness of her touch drove him crazy. He pulled away, grasped the hem of the offending garment, tugged it over his head and dropped it on the floor beside her clothes.

  Her eyes were almost black was she examined him. He stood still, letting her explore. It’s not like she’d never seen his chest before—but she’d never touched him, not like this. Her touch glanced over his pecs, blazed over the flat buds of his nipples, skated over his abs. Slowed at his fly. Which was now bulging from his aching hard-on.

  She lowered his zipper to the base. The warmth and softness of her hands as she hooked her hands into the waistband of both jeans and boxer briefs had him biting his lips in a desperate effort at control. Slowly, methodically, she skimmed his pants over his hips, tugging his boxer briefs with them.

  Freed of the restraint, his cock stood rigid and proud. Its head glistened, betraying how much he needed her.

  The soft intake of her breath shot straight to his groin.

  Touch me. Taste me. Suck me. Hell, all of the above.

  Her fingers closed around his shaft. Christ, she was stripping his control and they’d barely started. A groan escaped him and she stopped. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Anything but. You have no idea what a struggle I’m having right now to not pick you up, toss you on the bed and bury myself in you.”

  No camera could capture the beauty of her smile when she glanced up at him and whispered, “So don’t fight it.”

  As much as he wanted to feel the heat of her mouth around his shaft, the stroke of her tongue around it, he lifted her into his arms and laid her on the bed. “I wanted to take this slow.

  Tabatha’s breathing grew ragged as he stood over her, his head bowed until his chin touched his chest, his eyes closed, still and sculpted like a Roman statue except for a slight tremor in his thighs. Guess he wasn’t kidding about struggling to control himself. Pride and happiness soared through her. He wanted her. He hadn’t just been spouting her a line.

  She’d ogled his six pack abs enough times when she’d hung out at his pool, as well as the slight furring of golden hair on his chest, but she’d actually touched it. And it was as soft and springy as she’d dreamt. Her gaze drifted over his muscular calves, up his thighs. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth at the sight of his fully rigid cock, with its thick vein and glistening head. Mine. She shuffled around so she could kiss it, but Zac shook his head. “You can take care of that later, darlin’.”

  He bent over her and caught her mouth with his, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips. Once she allowed him entry, he crawled onto the bed, holding himself up on his elbows. His cock rested as a heavy weight against her belly, his hips slightly swaying, mimicking the motion of his tongue as it leisurely explored her. Her pussy pulsed, as if it were jealous of her mouth, wanting the same type of attention.

  Zac nibbled her neck and down her shoulder. His hands toyed with her nipples, tugging with exactly the right amount of pressure, until she squirmed.

  His breath heated her skin, his fingers set it aflame. He captured her breasts with his lips. Sheer pleasure washing over her, and she couldn’t stop herself from bucking against him when he scraped his teeth over her nipples. That was all he did—no biting or sucking, a simple brush of teeth over skin that left her quivering and gasping for breath.

  He lifted his head. His eyes were so fucking beautiful, like storm-tossed waves. Dangerous. Exciting. “Liked that, did you?”

  “I fucking loved it. Do it again.”

  So he did. He teased and tormented her with lips, teeth and tongue until she was begging him to fuck her. To fuck her hard.

  She’d heard of women being able to orgasm from breast play but she’d always thought they were exaggerating. But now she was so close to the edge, she believed them.

  “Fuck, Zac. I’m going to come.”

  A chuckle rumbled through his chest, along with a quiet, “soon.”

  Damned if the fucking man didn’t grin at her as he abandoned her breasts and moved lower. He pressed her thighs wider and settled his shoulders between them. A single lick of his tongue over her folds had her arching her back. Her fingers dug into his shoulders at the next swipe. “Oh fuck, Zac.”

  Again and again, he drove her up with that talented tongue, until sweat beaded on her forehead, sheened her skin. His stubble added an extra level of sensation with every movement of his chin and cheeks. He pressed a finger inside her passage, then two, until she writhed on the sheets, unable to stop the orgasm enveloping her.

  Her whole body quivered as she came down, and Zac’s head raised, a look of supreme satisfaction in his expression. Smug satisfaction.

  “Show off.”

  “You know the fireman motto, right?” Zac grinned. “The hotter you get, the faster we come.” He canted his head. “I’m guessing it’s been a while?”

  Too long. But she was pretty sure she’d come fast not just because of his excellent technique but because it was Zac’s fingers and tongue in her pussy.

  “Can I return the favor?”

  “Oh, baby, I thought you’d never ask.” He reached down and grabbed his jeans. A crinkle of foil later, he positioned himself at her entrance.

  “Not to be a spoilsport here, but I meant I wanted a chance to put my mouth on you.”

  “Kitten, if you touched my cock right now, with your hand or your mouth, I’d be a fuckin’ roman candle goin’ off like the fourth of July.”

  She couldn’t stop the warmth at the knowledge she had such power over him from spreading to her lips and her eyes. “I’d like to see that.”

  “Another time, maybe.” His gaze locked on hers. With a slow steady pressure, he filled her. Oh and did he fill her.

  “Too much?” He started to pull back until she grabbed his biceps.

  “No. Not too much. It’s perfect.”

  He began moving, long, slow strokes, teasing her, testing her. He lowered his head and laid a line of kisses along her neck and her shoulders. Shifting position, he transferred his weight to one arm, slipping the other hand between them. And unerringly found her clit. And stroked it. The combination sent all thoughts from her head, the lights around her dimmed, and all that existed was Zac, his breathing warm on her skin, body pumping over hers, into her.

  Yet he still remained completely controlled. A barrier she intended to break if it took her a hundred years. Or a hundred orgasms. Giving in to impulse, she raked her nails over his ass cheeks down to his thighs, reveling in how Zac’s ass clenched at her touch.

  “Fuck that feels good.”

  His voice was dark as chocolate, in big, raw, unsweetened chunks. And sexy as hell. She’d done that to him.

  His pace quickened, until they bounced along the mattress and her head hit the headboard. She braced herself by pushing her hands against the board, and nailed her heels into his ass, lifting her ass off the mattress.

  “Oh fuck, Tab.” The control she’d lauded him for disappeared. The heat in his eyes, in his body, was raw, wild lust.

  Not once in all the years she’d been married to Billy had he ever looked at her with such passion.

  His fingers tangled in her hair as he thrust harder, deeper. His breath hot on her skin, his cock filling her, stretching her. His loss of control, his need for her thrusting deep into her body, into her heart.
<
br />   A flick of his thumb or some finger against her clit set off another wild orgasm. Her vision flickered and Zac swore, his rhythm faltering as his own orgasm hit him. He slumped on top of her, his body a warm blanket, as the last of the shudders wracked him.

  He fell onto the mattress beside her. “Jesus, Tab. If I’d known it would be like that, I’d have asked you out when we were still in high school.”

  Oh God, so many missed opportunities. She fought the tears burning the back of her throat. “I would have said yes, you know.”

  He rolled onto his side and stroked her arm. “Quinn said you’d had a thing for me even back then. It’s true?” She nodded. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because you were a senior while I was freshman. And you always treated me like a kid.” Like his best friend’s sister’s best friend. Pretty far removed down the scale of people to pay any attention to.

  “I wish I’d known.” A smile curved his lips. “I also wish I’d punched Quinn in the face for staring at your ass earlier.”

  “Quinn was not staring at my ass.” Though she suspected who Quinn had really been watching. Not that it was her secret to tell. Even to Zac.

  Especially to Zac.

  Who plumped up the pillows and squirmed higher on the bed. “Trust me, he was ogling your ass. And a very fine ass it is too…speaking of…” He pressed her onto her stomach and smoothed his hands down her spine and cupped her asscheeks. “Yup. These definitely get the Zachary Buchanan seal of approval.”

  He stroked a finger down the crevice. “You ever been taken here before?”

  She shook her head into the pillow.

  He hmmed. “Well, not tonight, but soon, I’m going to take you there.” He lightly slapped one cheek. But for now, lift that pretty ass up high, cowgirl. I’ve a hankering to take you from behind.”

  She squirmed at the thought of him covering like that, but twisted to see his face. “I thought I was going to get a chance to suck you off.”

  “And I thought I told you I like to be in control. On your knees, kitten. Now.”