How to breathe.
How to stand on her own two legs.
This was Eddie - finally - and he tasted of sweet heat, the rasp on his five o'clock shadow against the soft skin of her face the most delicious pleasure-pain she'd ever experienced. For a moment she was dizzy with a combination of disbelief and sensory overload.
This was happening. After ten long years of yearning and lust and denial, this was happening.
Then his other hand slid onto her ass, gripping one cheek and dragging her close. She made a greedy, guttural sound as her hips found his and she discovered how aroused he was, how ready.
Needing more, she slid her hands beneath his T-shirt, running her hands feverishly over the taut smoothness of his belly and chest, reveling in how good he felt, how hard and solid.
Better than she'd imagined.
So much better.
"You taste so fucking good," Eddie said as he broke their kiss. "Jesus, Blue."
The next thing she knew her back was against the wall and her legs were locked around his hips as they ground together, her hands clawing at his back as she tried to get as close as she could.
She could feel how hard he was, how long and thick. Somehow she got a hand between their closely-pressed bodies, fumbling at his belt buckle. She didn't care that they were in an alleyway. She didn't care about anything except the need pounding through her.
She had to have him. She'd waited years. She wasn't waiting another second.
His buckle fell loose in her hand and she popped the stud on his jeans as the blare of a siren split the night air. A police cruiser sped past on the street at the top of the alley, lights flashing frenetically, the shock of it enough to still her hands and make him lift his head.
For a moment they stared into each other's eyes, both of them breathing hard.
"Not here," he said. "Not the first time."
She nodded, and he loosened his hold on her. Her feet found the ground, her knees not quite supporting her for a dangerous second. He gripped her hips, steadying her, his fingers digging into her flesh.
"My place?" he asked.
"Yes." Her voice was shaky, unrecognizable as her own.
"I'll get a cab."
Even though he'd let her go, he still stood close, his body pressed against her own, clearly reluctant to break the contact. She didn't want to lose the hard press of his body, either, but she also wanted much more than this.
"We should go," she said.
It took him another beat before he took a gratifyingly reluctant step backward. The cold night air rushed in to take the place of his body heat and for a moment she simply stood there and blinked, her brain refusing to work.
"You okay?" he asked.
She took in the color along his cheekbones and the almost-feverish light in his eyes.
"Yeah. You?"
"I will be soon."
His gaze raked her body hungrily, and her pussy tightened in anticipation. Without another word, she started walking, heading for the street. She spotted a taxi disgorging its passengers the moment she rounded the corner. Eddie strode past her, one hand raised imperiously to catch the driver's attention, urgency in every gesture. Seconds later they were in the rear of the cab and Eddie leaned forward, giving the driver his address.
Eddie settled back as the cab took off. She gripped the arm rest on her side, wanting to slide across the seat and into his arms but knowing that if she did so they would be fucking right here in the taxi in no seconds flat. Eddie glanced at her, and there was so much banked desire in his gaze she knew he was battling the same urge, could feel the heat of their mutual desire shimmering in the space between them.
She looked away, unable to sustain eye contact. Staring blindly out at the busy streets, she willed the driver to put his foot down.
Her mind raced ahead, imagining how things would unfold. They would reach Eddie's place, then he would take her inside and they would get naked and he would be hers. His skin against her skin. His mouth on hers. His body inside hers. They would be as close, as primitive, as urgent as two people could get.
Finally.
After what felt like forever, the taxi slowed as it turned a corner, and she recognized the house they were passing.
They'd arrived.
Chapter Eleven
She glanced at Eddie. He had one hand on the door handle, the other was a holding a fifty-dollar bill. The moment the cab stopped at the curb, he leaned forward and dropped the money into the driver's lap. Then he threw Blue a look that was so fiercely demanding it was almost intimidating it was so uncivilized. Then he was out of the car, striding toward his darkened house. Wordless, she followed him. The click of the key turning in the lock was audible as she mounted the steps. When she followed him into the hallway, he turned on her like a predator, his mouth descending, his body slamming against hers.
Any control he'd had in the alley was gone, his mouth consuming hers as his hands found her breasts. She gave a low moan as his fingers grazed her nipples before palming her whole breast.
Pleasure burned through her, sweeping everything in its path, and she let her head fall back as he kissed his way to her throat. She made an inarticulate sound as he bit her then soothed the hurt with his tongue, her hips jerking involuntarily against his. His hand slid onto her backside and held her snug against him as he repeated the move. She shuddered, then gave a soundless moan as his hand left her ass to slide to the front of her body, his hand curving to cup the mound of her sex through her jeans. She pushed her hips forward, trying to increase the pressure, and he obliged, his fingers digging into the denim where she needed him the most. She started to pant, heated images coloring the darkness behind her closed eyelids.
"Bedroom," Eddie muttered, his beard a rasp across her skin.
He gripped her hips, urging her backward up the hallway. Everything in Blue wanted to follow his lead, wanted to let him take her into his bedroom so he could lay her down and work his legendary wiles on her. He'd peel off her jeans and do things to her with his tongue and hands and cock. He'd make her sob and beg. He'd do whatever it was he did to make women bake him cakes and concoct excuses to try to get a second or third shot at being naked in his arms.
The thought was enough to make her dig in her heels and drag her mouth away from his questing kiss. She'd waited so long for this moment. Ten years. There were things she'd thought about during that time, things she wanted to do to him, and chief amongst them was the burning need to have him in her mouth. She wanted to own his cock. She wanted to wrap her hands around it. She wanted to consume it. She wanted to give him pleasure, to blow his mind.
She reached for his belt for the second time that night, her fingers nimble and sure this time. The stud on his jeans was warm from his body heat as she popped it open.
"Blue," he said, his hands reaching to catch hers.
He was used to calling the shots, used to taking charge and handing out the pleasure. That was his thing, the reason why women had been falling into his bed since he'd been old enough to welcome them there.
"Shut up," she said, her fingers gripping the hard metal of the zipper tab.
She had to work to get it over the significant bulge of his erection, but then it was down and she was pushing his jeans open and sliding her hand beneath the elastic of his boxer-briefs. The muscles of his belly quivered beneath her hand before she encountered the crisp silk of his pubic hair, then the hard heat of his cock. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, a purely feminine thrill racing through her as she registered the satisfying heft and girth of his erection.
She stroked him once, twice, enjoying the way his hips pressed forward as she stroked him to the hilt. Intent on her goal, she started to sink to her knees. Eddie's hand caught her shoulder, his body tensing with surprise.
"You don't -"
"Yes, I do." She kept her gaze trained on the prize as she continued her descent, greedily tugging down his jeans and boxer-briefs.
His cock slipped free, jutting hard and proud from a thatch of glossy dark hair. He was so freaking sexy, all hard belly and even harder cock and straining thighs. Giving in to instinct, she leaned forward and pressed her face to his skin, breathing in the smell of warm flesh and freshly washed cotton and healthy man. Hands curling around his hips, she turned her head and ran her tongue along the taut length of his cock.
"Jesus, Blue," he rasped.
He tasted as good as he looked. Eager for more, wanting to bring him to his knees, she drew the gentle swell of the head of his cock into her mouth. The skin beneath her tongue was velvet soft and she felt him shudder as she played her tongue across him.
"Okay, enough," he said, his fingers weaving their way into her hair.
So used to being in control in the bedroom, this man. She let him slide from her mouth, then tilted her head to look up at him.