Coach Love(9)

Tilting off kilter in more ways than one, he drowned in the woman he’d adored as a younger man and who’d nearly destroyed him their college sophomore year. He held onto her and wanted more than anything to be dealing with this crisis with her at his side not the brittle, easily angered Melinda.

“Holy...crap.” Cara gasped, pushing him away and glancing around at the darkened bar. “We can’t do this.”

“I know. But I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel pretty good.”

“C’mon.” She got to her feet, a little wobbly but wearing a grin that made him want to weep with relief. He slid off his chair, acknowledging the depth of his buzz as he stumbled. “Let’s get a taxi.”

“I can’t leave my car here,” he said, but she tugged him out after tossing some money down on the bar so he went with it, content to let her make the call on the next few moments that could, very possibly, change their lives forever. Shaking his head at his over-dramatization, he enjoyed the rear view while she made her way toward the front door.

While they waited for the taxi to arrive, he yanked her under an awning into the dark and grabbed at her again, covering her mouth with his, gripping her ass, her hair, at anything that might provide an anchor in his storm.

Letting him shove his thigh between her legs, she reached down and cupped his erection before breaking away, breathless, and pointing to the cab that idled at the curb. He almost fell over in his haste to climb into the back and get his hands on her again. They tongue wrestled and groped their way across town, stopping when the cabbie cleared his throat to indicate they should get out and pay him.

While part of him acknowledged his fully-wasted state, and knew that falling into bed with an old girlfriend in his condition didn’t rank too high on the good-choices list, his body thought otherwise so he let it lead. And it did. Growling in anticipation once they made it inside, Kieran ripped at Cara’s dress. She fumbled with his belt buckle and shoved his pants down around his ankles, making him drop to his knees when he forgot to step out of them.

Giggling, she helped him up then shoved him onto her couch and crouched between his legs. He released a sigh of relief as she worked the sort of magic he’d missed. Melinda didn’t give head anymore. Or take it for that matter.

He forced thoughts of Melinda away while the girl he’d once loved to distraction brought him to the ragged edge of orgasm with her lips, tongue, and fingers. When she stopped and released him with a loud, wet noise he had a tough time getting the two Cara’s to form into one. He groaned and focused on the ceiling, willing sobriety into his bloodstream so he might actually enjoy this a little more. It didn’t work. So he lunged forward, hauled her to her feet, and traded positions with her. She squealed in delight when he dove between her legs.

She draped her thighs over his shoulders and tilted her hips, pulling at his hair and moaning as he coaxed her to a loud climax. She calmed, and he sat back on his heels, wiping his lips, and palming his aching dick. The room spun even harder than before but his body knew its target. He pressed her down and pinned her wrists over her head then licked his way down her neck to her breasts, angling his hips, bringing him close. He wanted inside her so badly he could barely breathe.

“Kieran,” she mumbled around his lips. “Honey, I’m...I need you to...get a...oh dear Jesus.” When he stroked into her slowly then withdrew for the simple purpose of getting to do it again and again and again he heard her crying out his name, felt her nails against his flesh. And somewhere in the middle of all that, he came in a bright burst of energy that left him gasping for breath and emptied out in a way that hurt.

She had her legs wrapped around him, sighing with what he hoped and prayed meant she’d had another orgasm. He’d violated more of his own cardinal rules in the last few hours than he cared to admit. He never came until his partners had at least two if not more climaxes but Cara had been the one to teach him that. They had taught each other so much. Peeling his face away from her sweaty neck, he pulled out and sat, wishing the room would stop its infernal spinning.

She left the room then reappeared and tapped his leg, forcing him to open one eye, thinking that would help the multiple images merge into one. The glass of water she held out for him sloshed around but he got most of down his aching throat. He let out a low moan, hating what he’d done—without any protection, without even thinking about protection. And after the messes Antony and Aiden had gotten into...but no, they were both happy now, married to the women they loved, regardless of how fucked up that whole thing had been for a while.