Reckless Kiss: Episode 8

Reckless Kiss: Episode 8

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Episode 8

“This way,” Esme whispered with a slight incline of her head.

I followed on instinct. No words, no gestures. I simply followed as silently and obediently as I could.

She led me down a dimly lit hallway—probably meant to deter wandering guests—and into a dark but open alcove near the kitchens. Pots and pans slammed and banged against each other, along with the sounds of shouts and running water. Between the lack of light and the cacophony from the next room we had a surprising amount of privacy.

Edmund had only recently bought this house. Was Esme so adept at finding hiding places that she’d already found the best ones here? It seemed so. Once we were safely ensconced in the safety of the darkness she turned in the tight space, her arms and hips just barely grazing mine, and looked up.

“I don’t what to say other than . . . sorry.”

The muscles in my arm fired and even though my mind knew it was the wrong thing to do, I didn’t stop anything that was happening. I let my hand rise to her hip and slide along the curve. I brushed my thumb over the jut and squeezed.

“That’s part of our deal, Esme. You never have to explain yourself to me.”

Her gaze darted away, ran down my body. “I think this goes beyond anything.” She swallowed and I watched the way her delicate neck moved, the way the lines of her body ran together to create the unmistakable shape of a woman. “I have removed myself from my father as much as I can. I moved to Tampa to avoid him at all costs but,” she shook her head, “anyway, he’s here now and I had no choice but to appear tonight. When we met at the cocktail hour with Jeffry and I realized you were an agent I had the faintest thought that I couldn’t get away from men in sports, but that was it. I had no idea my father would call a dinner party and invite so many people.”

I squeezed her hip again to calm her because by this point she was babbling and nervous. “No explanations necessary. I mean it.” Even if I did want them all.

She shot me a wary glance. “You’re not angry? Put off that I’m not who I led you to believe?”

I didn’t move at first because I didn’t want for her to see just how much all those things were affecting me. Instead I stood very still, kept our eye contact steady. “I was shocked. Surprised. I wasn’t angry at all. If anything, I’m concerned.” And that was the scary, weird truth of it all. I was concernedabout a woman. No, not just concerned. I was emotionally invested. “Do you want to tell me why?”

The question escaped me before my brain could talk sense into my body. The more she told me the more I wanted to grab her by the hips and lift her so that she had no choice but to wrap her legs around my waist. Perch her on that ridiculous excuse of a table sitting decoratively behind her, free my dick, and bury it inside her until she began babbling my name.

She stared at my chest, unblinking. “I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about Edmund and he was no different as a father. I didn’t like being associated with him, even as a child. In high school I started going by my middle name.”

Esmeralda. Even silently I loved the way the syllables rolled together. “I somehow doubt your father approved of that.”

She grimaced. “He hated it. Took it as a personal insult. So only my close friends used it. They shortened it to Esme and I found it fit me.”

Marie was one of those friends. “I agree. You are not a Rosalind at all.” Then I swallowed because even saying her name made me hard. “Esme.”

Her lips curved slightly at the corners as if she enjoyed hearing me say her name. Before I knew what I was doing I brushed a kiss at each of those corners.

“Leo,” she sighed.

I gripped the table behind her, so close to what my body wanted but not actually indulging it. “I want you to know you left quite an impression on me, Esme. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?” She looked up at me, didn’t push me away.

“Yes,” I growled. Growled. What the hell was happening to me? “I consider my dates friends. I care about all of them. But they never leave me wanting the way you did.”

I swear she was holding her breath. Her chest didn’t move. Her eyes didn’t move. The only indication she was alive was the sight of her pulse thrumming in her neck.

“Is that because of the things I asked you to do to me?” she whispered.

Her body writhing as she begged for her orgasm flashed through my mind once again. So erotic. So mine. Except she wasn’t mine anymore.

“No,” I whispered back. “I won’t deny that I enjoyed everything about our night together but it wasn’t what you asked for that left me wanting. It was you.” And that was the truth of it. There was so much potential left on the table. So much more of her I wanted to explore. No woman had ever left me curious and hard the next morning, as if our long night together had only been a moment instead of hours of playing.

“Me?” she scoffed. “What you mean is you want another worry free night of fucking a woman who is up for anything.” She tried to duck away.

I stopped her, pulled my arms in around her and yanked her against my chest. “No, Esme. Seeing you the other night at Rusty’s after days of having you on my mind, it hit me. I was just happy to see you again. You. It felt like you’d been missing.”

She remained stiff but stopped trying to escape. She was breathing as hard as I was when she grabbed my face and kissed me. Frantically. Lips that opened and a tongue that demanded my attention. I did exactly as I’d imagined, taking her by the hips and lifting. Those gorgeous legs wrapped around my waist and she ground against me. She arched, giving me her neck to kiss and suck as my cock grew hard.

“Please Leo.” Her nails dug into my shoulders as she writhed, eyes screwed shut, hands trembling.

I paused, took her hand and kissed it. “Here? Now? You’re sure?”

Her gorgeous eyes flew open. The desperation I saw there gutted me. “I came to you because I needed relief from the insanity my father brought back into my life when he forced his way into Tampa. Everything’s a mess, Leo. Everything.” Tears sprang into her eyes and I couldn’t help but to kiss them away.

Shhh . . . Esme. You’re safe here with me. I’ll give you whatever you want, darling. But I need to hear you say it.” My dick strained, twitching behind my zip to be inside her, to give her everything she needed.

It about killed me when she slowly pressed her soft lips to my neck. Once, twice, three times before her hands cupped my face and pulled me in for a kiss. “Please, Leo. Tonight has been horrible. I need you.”

I shuddered. Need. Had anyone ever truly needed me before? Or was it being needed by her that was tearing me apart? Was that what drove my hand between her legs and shut off my brain from every warning bell that clanged loudly between my ears? All I knew was that I had no control once Esme spoke. I was a slave to her needs and nothing I thought mattered anymore.

I sought out her core, testing and probing, finding her tight and wet. She rocked against my hand, gasping and moaning. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I tried to maintain the last shred of control that remained, clinging to it like some sort of life raft. I worked in a second finger and explored until I found that spot that turned her to jelly in my arms.

“Yes. Yes. There!”

I flicked my thumb over her clit, then pressed, massaging a lazy circle, entranced by the transformation taking place in front of me. Esme had her eyes closed. Her face relaxed, erasing all that worry. Her lips parted, plump and ripe, begging me to suck them. Nibble them. Use them in place of the breasts trapped beneath her dress. They still tasted sweet from the dessert course and I randomly wondered how her navel would taste with whipped cream inside it. How erotic it would be to lick warm chocolate from the dip in her back.

I grabbed my wallet and using only my sense of touch and muscle memory, found the emergency condom I kept tucked inside, then pulled back just enough to put the right amount of space between us.

“Tear this open, Esme.”

Her eyes opened, big and dreamy with the pleasure I was giving her in the tiny alcove off the kitchen. I kept my hand inside her, working her pleasure points.

“Now what?” she whispered.

“Put it on me.”

She swallowed hard, then placed the condom on top of the wrapper on the space beside her bottom. When she yanked my belt free the blood surged to the head of my dick. It throbbed in the best way.

The zip went down, the clasp slid free, and then Esme’s warm, delicate hands wrapped around my straining erection and freed it from my boxers.

“Fuck, your hands feel so good.”

She took a shaky breath, stroked me several times, then reached for the condom. “I make you feel good?”

“Amazing. Watch, darling. I want you to look at my cock as you roll that on.”

She licked her lip then pulled it between her teeth. Red lips. Fuck, they would be the end of me. Then with big eyes she watched her fingers delicately run down my length, sheathing me for her.

“You’re ready,” she breathed.

“Yes I am. Are you?”

Thank you for reading episode 8 of Reckless Kiss! New episodes will release in my newsletter every Tuesday. If you enjoy this story please check out my free book Tease. It has a very similar style, level of heat, and types of characters and I think you’ll really enjoy it.

Some characters from my previous books will be appearing in this serial. If you haven’t already, check out When Lighting Strikes, to read Marie Bancroft Hamilton’s story, Summer Heat, Night Games, and Last Fall to meet more of the Bancroft Sports gang. (But you absolutely do not need to in order to enjoy Reckless Kiss. This book is 100% it’s own story!)