Real Women Don't Wear Size 2 (23 page)

He stopped walking and yanked her to him, dropping the sack of parade loot to the ground. Beads and candy and doubloons clattered against the asphalt as he pressed his hard erection against her belly. His mouth captured hers without restraint, his tongue thrusting in and out, in and out, in perfect rhythm with the hips moving against her.

She moaned and tried to get closer, which was impossible, since they couldn’t have slid one shiny doubloon between their bodies.

Pulling away, he nipped her lower lip. “You’re going to kill me, Clarise.”

“I’m trying.”

That low, sexy laugh rippled down her skin. “I want to take you somewhere special for this,” he said, and his eyes looked smoky, though that could’ve been because the night sky was steadily blanketing Tampa.

“How far?” she asked, wiggling against him. She did not want to wait long, didn’t think she could.

“Not far. We’re nearly there. But hell, I’d planned for it to be slow, easy and sensual.”

“And?”

“And I can only promise one of the three,” he said, pressing another kiss against her lips. When he broke away, her eyes blinked in the dimness. His jaw was tense and set in a determined line. Then he grabbed the bag in one hand and her palm in the other and led her down the street. Within minutes, they neared a brick building, a high school, and her pulse flittered.

“Which one?” she asked, as they circled the building and headed toward the football stadium. “Of the three? Slow? Easy?”

“Sensual,” he confirmed, and she held the urge to laugh. “We’ll have slow and easy. I promise you, we will. But not this time.”

Chapter 15

F
or the entire afternoon, Ethan watched her squeal for beads, shimmy like nobody’s business, and cheer for her hard-earned loot. All the while fighting his hard-earned hard-on. He’d nearly decided he could make it until the end of the parade before he drove into her, then her “ready for more” comment punched him low. Right below the belt. Add the detailed instructions on how he could help put her delicious breasts in a Gasparilla bra, and he’d nearly come in his pants, like an inexperienced teen, for crying out loud. Ethan Eubanks, who’d been dubbed “marathon man” by more than one of his previous lovers, was ready to self-combust at the mere thought of Clarise’s hidden pleasures. But they wouldn’t be hidden long. Because he sure as hell wouldn’t wait.

“Where to?” she asked, as they neared the end of the football bleachers.

He’d had no idea what the stadium would be like when he found the location of the nearest high school on the web this morning, but he’d been determined it would work. Examining the concrete walls on the ends, the thick pillars within its center, he knew for certain.
Perfect.
They crossed the solid earth and stamped over wild weeds that had grown beneath the stands. Wild and determined to burst free from their confinement, like the curvaceous woman at his side. Pulling her within the first section, he pressed her back to the pillar. Then he nipped her lower lip with his teeth and slanted his mouth over hers while she squirmed. Pushing his tongue inside, Ethan tasted chocolate and strawberry and cotton candy, her parade treats, combined with the intoxicating sweetness that was purely Clarise. He shoved his erection against her, the zipper of his pants rubbing his cock with each movement and making him even more eager to dive into her wet heat.

Clarise responded like an animal in dire need to mate, clawing at the front of his jeans until she had them unfastened and unzipped. Wasting no time at all, she grabbed the waist and pulled down. Then she encircled his erection with both hands. “Mmmmm.”

Ethan was surprised he had the wherewithal to remember the condom, but he did, thank God. He withdrew a foiled packet from his pocket, moved her hands and sheathed his length. Then he grabbed the sides of her skirt and bunched it in his palms, his pulse pumping madly when his knuckles finally grazed her lush thighs.

“I can’t be gentle this time, Clarise.” He yanked the skirt up and slid one hand to her center and desperately hoped he would find her panties as wet as he anticipated. His fingers only met a hint of wet satin around the edge of her slick folds and fiery heat. Recognition body-slammed him. Wild indeed. “No panties,” he confirmed.

She bit his neck. “Yes, panties,” she corrected. “No crotch.”

Damn, she’d be his undoing. Unable to wait a second longer, he shoved her against the pillar, lifted her legs to his waist and thrust inside. Clarise’s molten need engulfed him, held him tight as he pushed deep, becoming as much a part of her as she was becoming a part of him. Her full breasts met his chest with each thrust, with hard, stiff nipples evident in spite of the layers between them.

“Yes, oh, yes,” she urged, as he continued delving into her tight-as-a-fist center. He was so close, so damn close, but hell, he couldn’t. Not until . . .

Ethan shifted her body, then reached between them, beneath the bunched fabric of her skirt at her waist and found her swollen clit. Her mouth was clamped on his throat, sucking and biting through each plunge, but she arched wildly against his hand when he found her secret spot. With sweat beading at his temples and his jaw clenched to maintain control, Ethan slowed his thrusts and concentrated on her gasps, her quick inhalations of preclimax.

“That’s right, baby,” he urged, burying himself within her while he caressed the tender cleft. “I want to feel you come around me, darling. Ride it, Clarise. Ride it hard. Let it go.”

She spread her legs wider, pressing against his finger, while he pumped inside. “D-don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please.”

“Never.” He increased the quick strokes to her clitoris while he let his own strokes pound thoroughly into her tight heat, in perfect time with her building gasps, her thrusting breasts.

She sucked a large gulp of air, and Ethan felt her entire body tense in preparation. With one final, deep plunge, he merged completely with Clarise, both of their bodies finding gratifying release, while he captured her scream with his kiss.

The drive to the condo reminded Ethan of when he’d first started dating and was taking the girl home, that anxious feeling of wondering if and when you’ll see each other again—and how far to go at her door. But in this case, he wasn’t wondering whether he’d see her again or even what would happen when he took the girl home. Oh no, in this case, he wondered when he’d
have
Clarise again. And how far she was willing to go . . . in their relationship. Because, much like in high school, Ethan Eubanks wanted to go all the way.

She’d rolled the window down again, and the humidity of Tampa at night wasn’t much better than the daytime, but with Clarise at his side, it seemed damn euphoric. Inhaling deeply, she angled over the console and nestled against him. “That was incredible.” She’d made the claim a few times since they left the stadium in search of their car. And each time, amazingly, she seemed more in awe of their stadium sex. Of course, Ethan couldn’t deny the pride at her assessment. He knew the truth as well as she. It
was
damn good.

“Fulfilled that fantasy?” he asked.

“I’ll say.”

The memory of Clarise beneath the bleachers would be forever tattooed on his mind. Moonlight spilling through the stadium seats illuminating her face and intensifying the hunger in her eyes, and in her mouth, as she panted through their mating. Her hot, wet center, open and ready in the midst of a strip of satin. Bountiful breasts heaving and pushing against him with every thrust. Legs tightening around his waist to pull him close and hold him inside. He’d never forget the vision of a sweet, shy Clarise turned wild and wicked, and he’d make more of those memories with her before their time in Tampa ended. Hell, before the night was over, if he had his way. Judging by the way she snuggled against him, he’d have his way.

“No more parades tonight?” she asked.

“By the time we get back to the condo, they’ll be done.”

She leaned closer, kissed his neck, then nibbled his earlobe. “Then what will we do?”

He stopped at a traffic light. Crowds from the parades had cleared, and street sweeper trucks trudged their way down the parade routes to clear the enormous amount of debris. Thankfully, the removal of traffic and obstacles meant they’d be at the condominium in a matter of minutes. “What would you like to do, Clarise?”

She ran her hand up his thigh and pressed her palm against the outline of his penis against his jeans. “Well, we could hang out in our room until something comes up.”

The light turned green, informing Ethan it was time to move. His cock hardened, informing the same thing. “Baby, it won’t take long.”

Clarise felt like skipping through the resort. Better yet, she wanted to scream to the rooftops that she’d had wild, frantic, frenzied bleacher sex with Ethan Eubanks. With Ethan Eubanks! She glanced around the lobby and outer edge of the resort’s private bar, half-expecting to see some of the gang from work hanging out and enjoying the end of another night at Gasparilla, but evidently, the entire crew had already headed to bed for the night. Whether alone or with company, Clarise didn’t know or care. She was accomplishing the items on her list with the guy she’d dreamed about for years, and that was all that mattered. Not one of her Ethan fantasies had involved a set of bleachers and a concrete pillar against her back. Funny, that hard beam pushing into her spine should’ve taken away from the enjoyment rather than intensifying it, but intensify it did, the pain against her back only making the blissful invasion of her front more potent. Damn potent, if she did say so herself. Her orgasm curled her toes until her legs cramped and her eyes watered. By glory, she couldn’t wait for it to happen again, and it would, soon. By the time they reached their room. Then, watching Ethan’s face as he pushed the elevator button, she suspected it might happen before they reached the third floor. Worked for her.

“Come on,” he said, guiding her inside.

A couple of inebriated partyers, college fraternity boys, judging from the Greek insignias on their shirts, piled in after them.

“Hell of a Gasparilla,” one of them said, his breath foul enough to pass across the elevator and make Clarise flinch.

“Sure is,” she returned, trying to be polite in spite of his drunken state. Then she emitted a small yelp when Ethan’s palm slid into the back of her skirt.

“Damn,” the other claimed, turning to view the original elevator occupants and immediately focusing on Clarise’s nipples, protruding in spite of bra and shirt. She tried to think of a response to put the pervert in his place, but before she could speak, Ethan did.

“They’re taken,” he informed.

Clarise snorted as the guy flashed a crooked grin and shrugged, then followed his friend off at the second floor.

“Lucky you,” frat boy called as the doors closed.

“Yeah,” Ethan agreed. “Lucky me.”

The walls of the elevator were mirrored, so she waited until the doors closed to view his smoldering eyes in their reflection.

“Taken, are they?” she asked, unable to resist.

“Damn right.” He reached in front of her and punched the
STOP
button before they hit the third floor.

“What are you doing?” She feigned shock but failed to sound surprised.

He pulled her against him so his hard length pressed into her back. Then he lowered his face and nudged her ponytail away with his chin. The five o’clock shadow that had transformed him from clean-cut and gorgeous to rough, rugged and dangerous scratched her tender skin. “As if you don’t know,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning beneath her ear.

“How long before it starts back up? Or a buzzer sounds? Or—”

His lips stopped her speech. The awkward stance only added to the appeal. Ethan’s front against her back, her head angled to give him complete access to her mouth, and that hard rod pressing against her spine, announcing exactly what would happen. Soon, she hoped. He nipped her lower lip as he broke the kiss. “You did ask me to add elevator sex to your list, didn’t you?”

She nodded, but the niggling fear still squirmed its way forward. “But I hadn’t really thought about the possibilities of getting caught.”

His smile, as usual, caused her thighs to clench. “Adds to the fun, don’t you think? The potential for getting caught with your pants down,” he said, turning her so she faced one of the side mirrors, “Or in your case, with your skirt up. Bend over, Clarise.”

Heaven help her, she couldn’t have said no if she tried. Yes, the elevator could start moving at any moment, and yes, if it did, they’d be at the third floor, where possibly, people would be ready to ride. But yes, Clarise was ready for Ethan to ride
her.
Now. A handrail hung midway across the wall. She grabbed on and closed her eyes, eager to concentrate on feeling Ethan possess her once more. The fabric of her skirt grazed her legs, and she shivered as he bunched it up above her waist.

“Now spread your legs, darling.”

Clarise nodded, eager, wet and ready.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Cool air kissed her cheeks and the hot center that burned for Ethan’s touch.

“Open your eyes, Clarise.”

Once again, she followed his command.

“That’s right, baby. I want you to watch.”

Although she’d known exactly what she’d see, the picture in front of her caught her off guard. It was so erotic, seeing her body bent over, knowing her skirt left her womanhood completely bare to his access, and also knowing Ethan remained fully clothed.

“I want you,” she said.

He slid his hand between her legs, guided one finger inside. She instantly clenched to grab on, to hold him, any part of him, within her.

“Oh yeah, you certainly do.” Then he removed the finger, and Clarise wanted to cry from the withdrawal. He wouldn’t stop now. He couldn’t.

“Please, Ethan.”

His hands moved up her sides and slid the top button of her blouse through the buttonhole. She vaguely remembered doing the same thing two days ago in her apartment; however, it hadn’t been near as intoxicating to watch her own hands at the task. Watching Ethan’s, however, pushed a surge of warmth to the tips of both nipples and made them strain against the fabric of her bra. Slowly and surely, one button at a time, he opened her shirt and let the sides fall.