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mouth.
His dick was prodding through his zipper. It fucking hurt, he was
so damned hard for his woman, but he had to slow it down.
She reached down and pulled her thong aside in a silent plea to
end the ache in her cunt. Brad grinned, then he laved her slit, lapping
her up and down, teasing. Taunting.
 Ah, Isabel cried out.
Her bubbling cream poured out between her lips, and he licked
every drop, finishing with a barrage of flicks across her clit. Her body
convulsed and her back arched off the chair. He finally slid his tongue
between her sticky lips into her wet cunt, giving her what she most
craved.
Sweet. Delicious. He groaned, lost in a sea of mangoes and
coconuts. He smelled her. He tasted her. Fuck, he was drunk with her.
He fucked her with his tongue, fast in, out licking her moist walls,
sucking her juices.
 Ay, Brad, sí, mi amor!
She came. Her pussy muscles tensed, then broke in rippling
spasms that surrounded his mouth. It was sensational. Her pussy
quivered and squeezed as her hot cream dripped on his tongue. Isabel
screamed, gripped his hair, groaned, and trembled.
He sucked her sensitive, swollen clit as he undid his belt, button,
and zipper, freeing an engorged and pulsating dick from his tight
jeans. He stood, but only to pull his pants off and throw them where
they fell over her skirt. Then he lifted her off the chair and sat her on
the table.
He laced his fingers through hers, bent his body over hers until
she lay on her back, then raised her arms above her head. His lips
pressed against the fast pulse on her throat. He ran his mouth over the
curve of her neck, washing hot air over her scorching skin. She arched
166 Chalee Mar
her back, supple and ready under his body, tensing and flexing over
hers.
When she wrapped her legs around him, he entered her slowly.
Fuck, she s so tight, so wet. He couldn t speak. He could barely
breathe. But he felt her breasts molded against his chest. He moved
inside her convulsing walls, heard her rapid breathing, and smelled
exotic fruits coupled with her alluring essence.
He pulled out, then thrust back in, deeper and deeper. His heart
pounded and his breathing was labored. Every vein popped and every
neuron fired. She moaned and squeezed his hands. He filled her and
drove faster, faster.
The urge to be with Isabel, with his woman was an addiction. She
was his obsession. Her body was created for his. Every breath he took
was for her. Making love with her was raw and sensual. It was
animal-like, and it was beautiful. It gave him power, and it exposed
his bruised heart. She reached for him, and she could save him. He
wanted her to.
When she exploded again in fiery spasms that stroked his cock, he
came with her. He spurted his semen, experiencing a bliss possible
only in her arms.
He lay against her, fighting to fill his lungs, more satisfied than
he d ever been, and having the biggest urge to share his whole life
with her. He wanted to tell her things about him he didn t tell anyone,
not even Dale. He yearned to grow old with her.
He should tell her. Maybe he shouldn t wait after the killer was
caught. He moved off her to grab his pants, thinking of a way to
phrase what he barely understood but felt with a fire that burned his
soul. When he handed her the skirt, she grabbed it and gave him an
odd look, before walking toward her room.
 Isa  he started, but she shut the door, the sound more stinging
than a slap in the face.
Good job, Brad. You re real smooth. The best sex of your life, and
she walks away. Damn.
Salsa Nights 167
Chapter Eighteen
Isabel woke before sunrise, earlier than usual, and went through
her morning routine in a daze. It was as if she were dragging herself
through a sad, out-of-body experience.
She hadn t meant to call Brad  my love in Spanish during sex
last night. And maybe it was a phrase thrown around by Latin lovers
to their partners in the throes of passion, whether they meant it or not.
But not Isabel. She could never call anyone  my love unless she was
in love.
And therein lay the problem. How could she be in love with Brad
when she was in love with Dale? How could that be possible? She
was extremely attracted to both, craved them both, and loved them
both.
Up until last night, she d known she was falling for them but had
waged a war with herself. First, she d convinced herself she couldn t
risk falling in love with them. Then, she d accepted that she was, but
she figured it was her hormones and adrenaline which made her
emotions irrelevant. Now she finally raised the symbolic white flag.
She was in love with Brad and all of his stubbornness, and she
was in love with Dale and his candy-sweet charm. Oh, how could she
have lost control of her emotions? She d told herself to be strong, to
enjoy the sex, and to not expect anything more than the physical
pleasure they gave her.
She needed to clear her head, to think. The only thing that ever
helped her reduce her tension and think coherently was dancing. And
she didn t want to wait for one of them to take her. They were the
reason she had to dance in the first place.
168 Chalee Mar
After pulling on her yoga pants and hoodie, she checked the first
floor and saw that all was quiet. The guys normally didn t wake up
for about another half hour. Feeling a little hopeful that she could
possibly sneak out, she remembered Dale commenting they d
changed the alarm password so she wouldn t get away again.
Shit. She stood in the middle of the living room, defeated, feeling
as if the walls would cave in around her. But she heard something a
slight splash. She glanced out to the pool and saw someone cut [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]