Too Close to Call: A Romancing the Clarksons Novella Page 8

  “There was never a bet to win my father over.” Bree scooted closer and Kyler held his breath. “How you accomplished that is still a mystery, but that explanation is for another time. Right now, we’re getting a do-over.” She unhooked his seatbelt, the zip-reel sound going straight through him. “Dare me to turn you down.”

  He caught her hand before it could settle on his chest. “You’re not hearing me. I’m turning myself down on your behalf.”

  “Come on, Kyler. If you dare me to turn you down, I’ll be obliged to do the opposite.” She twisted her hand out of his grip, curling those long, graceful fingers of hers in his collar. “It’s how we do things.”

  Christ, having Bree so close was mental damnation and salvation, all at once. She was crumbling his resistance little by little, but he didn’t want her on a technicality. “That’s not how we’re doing things tonight.” He brought their foreheads together, let his tongue slide out and meet with her lower lip. “No games, Bree. Say you need me.”

  With the ultimate challenge lying between them, brown eyes traced up to lock with his. “You’re not making this easy, are you?”

  “What’s holding you back from saying it?”

  Time slowed down, the watery bubbling of the creek fading out. “The worry that it might be true.”

  Kyler’s heart went wild in his chest, hammering so fast his vision tripled. His hands shook. The light she’d blown out inside him flamed brighter than ever, a fireworks display inside his chest. Bree, however, looked like a frightened deer in a hunter’s sights. She attempted to throw herself back toward the passenger side of the truck, but Kyler wasn’t letting her go now. Oh no. She’d finally said what he’d known in his bones since day one, all the way back in middle school.

  Their need went both ways. It was solid, immeasurable, and couldn’t be weakened by absence or the passage of time.

  “Get over here, Bree Caroline.” Kyler grabbed her around the waist, hauling her back across the seat and out of the truck. She was in his arms before she could form a protest, but she certainly made a show of sputtering as he strode with her toward the creek. “Go on, then. Now that you’ve given me the truth, I’ll let you complain a little. Right before I lick it straight out of your mouth.”

  “You…” she started in a shaky whisper. “Y-you’re…”

  “Sad. Happy. Horny. Miserable. Confident. Worried. Horny. Did I say that last one twice?” As soon as he reached the grassy bank surrounding the creek, Kyler dropped to his knees with Bree still cradled in his arms. And then she was on her back beneath him, twin reflections of the moon lighting up her eyes. “You. You make me everything on that fucking list.”

  “Oh yeah?” Baring her teeth, she took hold of either side of his shirt and ripped it straight down the middle, sending buttons flying in every direction. “If I make you so crazy, what do you want with me?”

  “Everything.”

  Chapter Ten

  Shit.

  Almighty.

  The kiss Kyler dropped on Bree almost sent her into a blackout. A lust-driven, not-in-control-of-her-limbs, shot-into-another-dimension loss of awareness.

  His teeth nipped around her lower lip, dragging it down, leaving her mouth vulnerable so he could lay claim. With his tongue. His lips. And Lord, did he ever. It was the kiss that wouldn’t stop giving. Just a wet, writhing, slanting mating of mouths and at some point, Bree gave up on the act of breathing. If she died this way, she wouldn’t even feel death creeping in because she was too busy being consumed by Kyler. His kiss was wild, frustrated, giving, desperate. She felt everything inside her expand in the presence of it, threatening to burst.

  Bree’s body must have acted out of self-preservation, pulling on the roots of Kyler’s hair until he broke the kiss, allowing her to suck in deep, labored pulls of oxygen. His face was hard to see in the shadows, but worry for her made his eyes an intense green, his lips descending once more. But not for another kiss. No, he fit their mouths together and breathed. Breathed again.

  “What is this?” Bree murmured, voice catching. “Some sexy version of CPR?”

  His lips curved briefly against hers. “We should trademark it. I might be on to something.” Once again, he gave her a slow dose of air and sensual languidness slithered through Bree’s body. “Nah, I’m keeping it just for you.”

  Maybe it was the additional oxygen. Or maybe it was just the intimacy of the act itself. But her body stretched out and arched beneath Kyler’s, her thighs opening and inviting him to drop down. To push. To pin. Her body was a begging mass of nerve endings screaming for an anchor. “Kyler.”

  “Shh, I’m coming.” Bracing one hand beside Bree’s head, he gave her the full weight of his lower body, hissing when her warmth welcomed the thick flesh behind the zipper of his jeans. As if his body was operating on pure animal need, he thrust once, driving her a few inches up the creek embankment. “This what you’re impatient for?”

  “Yes. I…”

  “Tell me, Bree. Tell me everything.”

  “Say you need me back.”

  Oh God. Where had that come from? Now it was a competition to see what would burst into flames first—her face or her body. It didn’t help when Kyler stared down at her like she needed a straightjacket. “Bree, I’m a mess. I’ve been a mess since the last time we stood beside this creek. You want to know if I need you? Just look at me. All you ever have to do is look at me and you’ll see it.”

  Bree used a mental machete to slash a pathway out of her head… And once she stood on the other side, it was like stumbling into a vivid, Technicolor dream. So much pent-up passion ran circles in Kyler’s eyes, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it before. At least not since he’d come home to visit. “Oh.” She swallowed hard. “You are a mess.”

  He dropped his face into the crook of her neck and rolled those powerful hips, denim dragging over cotton, enticing the flesh beneath. “Heal me. Please.”

  Responsibility and a renewed wave of desire moved inside Bree. Following instinct, she urged Kyler to roll onto his back, leaving her straddling his lap. Now that she’d slipped into the land of Technicolor, her senses were so sharp, so attuned to this man, she heard his fingers digging into the earth, heard the whap whap whap of his heart.

  Need her? This snapping connection between them went beyond need. And there was no denying it right now. Not with him in pain beneath her. Pain she was driven to relieve, the urge to do so stronger than anything she could remember. Her own desire more than matched Kyler’s, swelling with every passing moment.

  Bree gathered the hem of her dress and whipped off the garment, turning slippery between her thighs when Kyler groaned, his hips lifting and falling beneath her. A raring engine. Glorying in his hunger, Bree unhooked the front of her bra, removing it in a slow tease. But she stopped short when Kyler’s eyebrows drew together. “How come you took off your bra, but you’ve still got one on?”

  “Oh th-that.” She got busy unhooking the second bra. “Would you believe it was an honest mistake?”

  His lips jumped at one corner. “Nope.”

  “I didn’t want my hard nipples showing at dinner. You happy?”

  “Blissful.” Her exposed breasts got rid of the grin on his face. “Bree Caroline, you are the most beautiful woman on the goddamn planet.”

  Bree’s pulse thudded in her temples, the base of her neck, between her legs. If she basked too long in Kyler’s devouring gaze, surely she would explode, so she slipped back on his thighs, her fingers working to unzip his pants. She couldn’t stop herself from stealing glances at him, though, his huge, chiseled body lying there in the grass, waiting to give pleasure.

  By the time she finally held his thick shaft in her hand, Kyler’s breath had grown labored, sweat beginning to dapple his heaving chest. “You’ve still got those little red panties on, Bree. Come on up here so I can get them off.”

  Urgency pumping in her veins, she stroked Kyler, struggling to come up with a plan that didn’t in
volve her climbing off him, because that would suck. The only plan she was interested in was seating herself on that hard part of him and riding him until they were both mindless. “I think…I think I can slide them down.”

  “Uh-uh. You know what I want.” He crooked a finger at her. “We both know I won’t go in smooth without giving you a good licking first. So come on up here and get it. Want your gorgeous thighs around my face.”

  Kyler didn’t give her a chance to follow his instructions, grabbing her by the hips and hauling her up, up, until the material of her panties was stretched just above his mouth. Bree fell forward, planting her palms on the grass, whimpering when Kyler’s warm breath heated the sensitive insides of her thighs. The sound of the creek rushed in her ears, interrupted only by the sounds of cotton ripping, a guttural groan. Lips met her damp flesh almost immediately and Kyler’s hands returned to her hips only to press them down, meeting the most sensitive part of her with the flat of his tongue. Rubbing it there.

  “Oh, that’s oh…” The summer evening dew on the grass made Bree’s knees slip wider. That and the fact that they were trembling out of control. “I’m not going to make it. I’m going to…”

  Apparently Kyler wasn’t listening, because he continued to mete out torture, massaging her hips and buttocks in his calloused hands, slipping his tongue up and back through her folds, teasing her nub endlessly until Bree’s cheek was grinding against the soft ground, her hips rolling toward the only thing that could end the pain. Every delicate and neglected muscle south of her belly button began to converge in on itself, constricting, stealing the breath right out of her lungs. But just as she bit down on her bottom lip and readied herself to field the orgasm of the century, she heard the sound of foil ripping. Then in one hasty, hungry move, Kyler used his grip on Bree’s hips to lift her up, repositioning her on his lap.

  “Need you, Bree. Need you.”

  His hand shifted between her thighs, brushing her flesh, and she let out a sob. The head of his erection met her entrance and they locked eyes, Kyler’s the definition of starvation. Enough to humble Bree, start a rhythm in her chest she wasn’t sure would ever stop. “Need you, Kyler.”

  Bracing her hands on his chest, Bree filled herself with Kyler’s hard length, gasping from the pressure. The incredible, mind-blowing pressure. She let her gaze sweep over the straining cords of his neck, the shuddering lift and fall of his stomach, the desperate grip spanning her waist. Everything is right where it’s supposed to be, said a voice in the back of her mind.

  Not even the sky falling could have prevented her from moving in that moment. From twisting her hips back, lifting to the plump head of his shaft, and rolling back down. A dance that was somehow singular to them and old as time, all at once. That first downward grind had Kyler throwing his head back and releasing a satisfied shout. Which was when Bree remembered why they’d always found it necessary to drive out to the creek to make love.

  “We never did this quietly, did we?”

  Kyler’s voice sounded just as unnatural as hers when he responded. “A man can’t stay silent when he’s wrapped up in something so tight.” His thumb rubbed over her clitoris, side to side. “Christ, I thought my mind had exaggerated how good you feel, Bree. How good we feel. It’s taking everything I got not to flip you over and ram myself—” He cut himself off with gritted teeth, eyes closing. “No, I’m going to make this last. I want this to go on forever. You sitting there, full of my inches, thighs dancing around like you can barely handle them.”

  “Forever might be a stretch if you keep talking like that,” she managed on a shaky inhale, her hips bucking involuntarily.

  “Ride it, Bree,” he gritted, levering his hips up for a long, slow grind. “Been too damn long since I came with my cock inside you and not just imagining it there.”

  Her pulse stuttered. “Did you imagine it a lot?”

  “Every. Time.”

  Something worrisome tugged on Bree’s subconscious, but she could only focus on the pressure mounting inside of her. The incessant quickening that built higher every time she snapped her hips, Kyler’s thickness pumping in and out of her wet heat. The base of him grazed her clitoris every time she moved, but Kyler—who she’d often suspected knew her body better than she did—pressed down on the small of her back, creating an angle that made her climax loom like an inferno.

  “Oh my God.” She let out a broken sob. “Yes.”

  “There’s my girl now. Who knows what you like?” His thumb joined the base of his erection in stroking the sensitive spot, his eyes glittering up at her in the darkness. Encouraging her to come apart, to take what she needed. “Spent the best hours of my life learning your needs, making sure you’d always finish first. Got my girl’s slippery-wet pussy memorized, don’t I?”

  When his hips started giving quick upward thrusts, his thumb moving in a blur, Bree dug her fingernails into Kyler’s pectorals and screamed, the pleasure reaching into her belly pulling everything tight, tight, tight.

  Releasing.

  Kyler shoved up deep and Bree pressed down, working as a team without exchanging a single word to give her the longest peak, and it went on and on until her voice started to go hoarse from calling his name. Her legs clamped around Kyler’s hips like he was the only raft in a storm. In a way he was because Bree swore she’d been struck by lightning.

  “Missed you clinging to me most of all, didn’t I?” Kyler said through gritted teeth. “Only time I know you won’t run off is when I’m giving you a good fucking. You stay put for that, don’t you?”

  Without giving her a chance to recover, without giving her the sweet kisses and reassurances of their youth, Kyler turned them a final time, settling Bree on her hands and knees in the grass. Bree stared out into the moonlit trees as Kyler dragged his hot open mouth up her spine and buried his face in her neck, sounding like a man who’d just swum from the bottom of the ocean without an oxygen tank.

  One of his knees slid in between her thighs, prying them wide. That hard, heavy part of him filled her in a rough shove. And, groaning into her shoulder, one hand fisted in her hair, he fucked her into next week.

  “Slide your ass up my stomach. I’ve got a few more inches to give you.” His answering curse was followed by her name, and satisfaction flowed hot in her blood, dizzying her. “Dammit, Bree, that’s so fucking good. Now push, push back…Jesus. You have no idea what you do to me. What you’ve always done. No idea.”

  She started to slide forward in the grass, but he jerked her back with a forearm beneath her hips. “Oh God,” she whimpered. “Harder.”

  “There it is.” His growl sent shockwaves through her blood. “There’s our magic word. My harder’s a little different this time around, though. You want it?”

  “Yes.”

  The impact of his lower body spurring into a ruthless pace made Bree suck in a ragged breath, her flesh quickening around him. Her vision started to glaze with another oncoming wave of pleasure, teeth beginning to chatter in her mouth. Behind her was not the boy who’d spent countless hours in that very spot learning her body, teaching her about his. No, this was Kyler Tate the man. A rough, demanding man that couldn’t achieve release without her and that very thought alone, coupled with his groans, spurred her into another mind-blanking orgasm.

  “Kyler. Kyler.”

  “So sweet. You’re so fucking sweet and snug, Bree, shaking around me. I can’t hold it back anymore. Too long. It’s been too long.” His husky ramble hitched in her ear, followed by a long moan, the broken pumping of his hips. Those strong arms banded around her, supporting her, but also crushing her up into his body. One final thrust and they both went down into the grass, Kyler’s arms breaking her fall as he shuddered through his peak. “Bree,” he breathed finally, his body going limp, laying partially on top of her. “My girl.”

  It took a few minutes for the fog to part. Bree almost wished it wouldn’t, wished they could go on lying there together all night, not thinking about a
single thing. Except for the fact that they’d surely just raised the bar on sex between humans. Because holy damn. She was going to feel it for a week and she didn’t even mind.

  Her heart wouldn’t let her rest, though. No, it walked right upstairs to her brain and knocked on the door, tapping its foot until it was acknowledged.

  At some point during the night, she’d forgotten all about what was bothering her. Kyler was leaving in a matter of days. Which made tonight nothing more than a hookup. A pit stop on his way to Los Angeles. And while Bree wished she was the kind of woman who could appreciate sex for sex’s sake... The increased discomfort in her sternum was making it painfully obvious that sex with Kyler had never, ever, just been about sex. Although, that wasn’t the case for Kyler, was it?

  You broke my heart. I went away and healed it up. Now we’re going to be friends.

  Just friends. A visit with an old flame.

  For him, anyway. In the blink of an eye, Bree was right back where she’d started the day Kyler left for Cincinnati. Alone. Missing him so bad she could barely perform basic functions like walking or tying her shoes. No way to fix the ache and remain true to what she loved. Who she was. Her options were even more limited this time around because tonight was purely physical for Kyler.

  “All right, supergirl. Smoke is about to come out of your ears.” He dropped a kiss onto her nape, bundled her closer. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I thought, um…” Her voice was doing that super high-pitched thing that always betrayed her when she got overwrought. “I thought I would be okay with just, like, hooking up, but it turns out I’m not. Not okay with being your hookup.”

  Kyler tensed up behind her. Jerk. He was probably regretting bringing her down to the creek in the first place, thinking she’d gone all psycho ex-girlfriend on him. Wanting more when he no longer did.

  That distressing thought had Bree attempting to scramble out of Kyler’s arms, but he held on tight. “How dare you get weird on me, Kyler Joseph? I’m not asking you to go steady. I’m just…I’m just…” To Bree’s horror, tears pricked the back of her eyelids, lost the battle to stay contained, and slipped down her cheeks. “Maybe I could have handled this kind of thing better with someone else—”