Free Agent-ARE-mobi Read online

  At that point, all attempts at subtlety evaporated. Their lovemaking took on a brutal, almost animalistic quality. Their bodies slapped together, water splashing on their chests, their faces. Neither of them sought to wipe the drops away. Nothing mattered except pleasure. Dragging it out as long as possible. Pushing the limit, feeling it spiral higher.

  Lela was dizzy with the sensations pummeling her. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

  Tucker’s fingers gripped her ass, seeking a better hold, intent on moving harder, faster.

  Her head fell back, her long hair floating along the surface of the lake. It offered no cooling relief. She was on fire, and nothing would quench the flames short of an orgasm.

  Tucker drove himself to the hilt once more, then held her there despite her attempts to continue the motion. She opened her eyes just in time to see him reach for her clit.

  God. One touch there and she was a goner. She reached for his wrist, stopping him.

  His eyes narrowed. “Let go, L.B.”

  A shiver racked her frame at his deep command. She loved his dominance, longed for him to expand on that concept. Years spent guiding her own pleasure, taking charge of her own orgasms—or going without—had caused her to grow apathetic about sex. It had always been more bother than it was worth.

  Not so with Tucker.

  The teacher inside her had no trouble giving up the role of instructor. In this, she was his most willing student.

  She released his wrist. “If you touch me there, it’s over. I’m too close.” She hoped her confession would encourage him to slow down, to give her time to recover a bit.

  He grinned. “It’s not going to be over for a long time, Lela. I intend to spend the next few hours inside this pretty pussy.”

  Hours?

  She felt light-headed. Was that physically possible?

  “Oh,” she replied stupidly. She didn’t have time to form a more intelligent response when he stroked his thumb along her clit and lightning struck. Her spine arched and she almost dunked herself. Mercifully, Tucker cupped the back of her head just before she submerged.

  After that, all of his actions seemed hazy, coming to her through slow motion as her climax continued.

  “God,” she cried out when Tucker sought to prolong the beautiful agony with more thrusting. In and out, he drove, her body floating away once more. This time, instead of the water carrying her, it was Tucker.

  Always Tucker.

  Her pussy clenched tighter and her lover fell as well. Tucker’s arms wrapped around her, holding her, as he bent lower to place his forehead against her breasts. Water lapped around them but somehow, miraculously they managed to keep their heads above the surface.

  Heat flooded her pussy as Tucker came inside her. Though they’d had sex countless times—both in the past and in recent days—she’d never felt this close to him, never enjoyed such a strong bond. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she’d given him something no one else ever had, or the idea that he was truly inside her now.

  Tucker recovered first, rising slowly. Her legs lowered into the water, her feet finding the uneven floor of the lake. She was grateful for the water’s support. Without it, she wouldn’t have been able to stand on her own. Her limbs felt like rubber, her strength zapped.

  Tucker kissed her forehead, then her eyes, his lips drifting down to find hers.

  She was touched when he whispered, “thank you” against her cheek.

  Lela captured his gaze. “Tucker…” She started to demure, to tell him she was the one who should be saying thank you, but he waved her words away, silencing her with another kiss.

  “You’ve always trusted me.” His tone was tinted with amazement.

  “Of course I have.”

  He looked truly perplexed by that. “I don’t want to betray that trust.”

  Once again, she suffered that niggling sensation Tucker had secrets he wasn’t sharing. “You won’t.”

  His body suddenly looked tense and his expression darkened with hunger. “I’m about to test the limits.”

  Before she could ask him what he meant, her hand was in his and he was dragging her toward the pier. He tugged her in front of him, encouraging her to climb the ladder first. She gave him a knowing look over her shoulder when she realized he just wanted a better look at her bare ass.

  He didn’t bother to hide the appreciative gleam in his eyes. “God, you’re hot.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I have a fat ass and you know it.”

  “I honestly can’t think of one man who prefers a skinny ass over a big booty. I like having something to wrap my hands around.”

  She laughed. “I’m not a damn football.”

  He slapped her ass when she reached the top. He’d been right on her heels during the four-rung climb. They both reached for towels, drying off.

  Lela looked around, grateful that most of her neighbors worked year-round. The only person home at this time of day was the woman with all the kids, several houses down, and Lela knew she struggled to get them outside most of the time, the lure of Xbox keeping them glued to the TV.

  “You ready for more?” Tucker asked as he gathered their things and started walking toward her house.

  “I thought you were kidding about that. Don’t you guys need recovery time?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and gave her an exasperated look. “I’m spanking your ass as soon as we get inside.”

  “What for?”

  “You settled, L.B. Didn’t you? Didn’t bother to find guys who deserved you, who made you come over and over again.”

  A lump formed in her throat. She’d never considered herself particularly low on self-esteem, but hearing Tucker’s assessment made her realize she had sort of given up.

  She recalled a plaque that hung in her foyer with a quote from Thoreau. It said, “Live the life you’ve imagined.” She hadn’t done that. Hadn’t let herself believe she could find true happiness, passion or love. Lela recalled her lame reasons for staying with Carl, her claims that companionship and lukewarm sex were enough. How could she have believed that?

  Lela didn’t bother to reply. Her expression told him exactly what he needed to know. They climbed the stairs to her back porch and entered the house via the kitchen. She started toward the bedroom, but Tucker stopped her, his gaze focused on the counter of the island.

  They hadn’t bothered to put their clothing back on. Instead they’d simply wrapped the towels around themselves. Tucker tugged hers off, studying her naked body with obvious appreciation.

  “Come here.”

  She began to step into his arms, longing for the warmth of his embrace, as the air conditioning was too cool on her damp skin. However, he didn’t seem to have cuddling on his mind. He guided her to the counter and pressed lightly on the nape of her neck.

  “Put your hands on the counter and bend over.”

  She shivered—with cold and anticipation. He’d made several comments about punishing her. Was he planning to follow through with it?

  Lela wasn’t sure why the idea appealed to her so much, but given the sudden moisture gathering in her pussy, she couldn’t deny she wanted it. Wanted Tucker to claim control, take her hard. Somehow his rough actions didn’t hurt as much as arouse.

  Once Lela was bent over, Tucker lifted his hand and brought it down on her bare ass. He’d given no warning and he sure as hell hadn’t held back.

  “Ouch.” She started to rise, but his hand reappeared at her back, applying the pressure needed to keep her where he wanted her. He spanked her again—two quick, hot blows, one to each cheek.

  She tried once more to stand, but Tucker wasn’t going to let her go that easily. “What do you say to end this?”

  Lela struggled to understand his question as her body began to betray her. Her initial reactions had been pain and escape, but she noticed the heat in her ass didn’t seem to sting as badly right now. The burn wasn’t a bad one. She pressed her legs together, shocked by the j
olt of blinding need that struck.

  “God,” she gasped. She was hot, horny. From three strikes to her ass? Seriously?

  She tilted, then wiggled her hips.

  Tucker chuckled, but didn’t take her up on the invitation. “Nice try, L.B., but you didn’t answer my question.”

  He’d asked a question?

  “Um…”

  Tucker stroked her ass gently, sending another round of vibrations rumbling through her. “What word?”

  Lela pressed her eyes shut tightly, trying to force her brain to work. It was clear he wouldn’t give her what she wanted until she responded, but she couldn’t for the life of her—

  “Football!” she declared loudly. Then she realized perhaps he’d misunderstand. “That’s what I say. But I’m not saying it now.” She felt it important to stress that point.

  “Good girl.” His hand landed hard.

  Lela gasped, changing her mind. It hurt again. Then Tucker wiped the soreness away with light caresses that had her up on her toes, her empty pussy clenching, seeking.

  “Tucker. Please.” She didn’t have enough functioning brain cells to form more than those two words. It didn’t matter. Tucker was the quarterback and he was making the calls.

  He placed ten more slaps against her ass, varying the speed, the strength. Sometimes it was a tap, other times the impact caused her to cry out. None of the touches made her want to call a halt. They only increased her longing.

  She was gasping by the time Tucker stopped. He tapped on the inside of her ankle, bidding her to spread her legs without words. He ran his fingers through the juices there.

  Lela released a long sigh of relief.

  “Not yet, L.B.”

  She scowled, shooting daggers at him over her shoulder. She needed him to fuck her. And she wasn’t in the mood to wait.

  Her expression only served to fuel Tucker’s determination to drag out this torturous, amazing foreplay. He grasped her upper arm and forced her upright. She wobbled a bit, but Tucker was there to support her.

  “I love the kitchen,” he said. “Probably the best room in a house after the bedroom.” She was amused—and annoyed—by his steady, nonchalant tone. She was three seconds from splintering into a million pieces and he was casually chatting about the merits of a damn kitchen.

  “Yeah,” she muttered. “Great room.”

  He chuckled. “So many options.”

  She frowned, but Tucker continued.

  “For instance…” Rather than complete his statement, he guided her to a kitchen chair, encouraging her to sit.

  Once she was situated, he took two too many steps away from her. Rubbing his chin, he seemed content to simply look at her. Problem was…she was not content.

  “I don’t like this game, Tucker. I need you to fuck me.”

  Tucker tsked. “Don’t remember you using such foul language when we were younger.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That was then. This is now. Come here.”

  He gave her a grin she instantly distrusted and it occurred to her she was probably being very foolish with her imperious demands. Something told her he had every intention of making her pay for them.

  Tucker didn’t reply, didn’t scold her. Rather, he turned around and started exploring her kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets, grabbing a couple of things, though she couldn’t see what.

  When he returned, she spotted her I’d be a vegetarian if bacon grew on trees apron and a clean dishrag in his hands.

  “Still a fan of bacon, I see.”

  She shrugged. “Nobody’s invented anything better yet.”

  “That’s true.”

  He bent down and she lifted her face, expecting him to kiss her. She was disappointed when he clasped her hands instead and tugged them behind her back. That disappointment was short-lived when he used the apron strings to tie them together.

  Ooh…bondage.

  She started to tell him exactly how much she liked where he was going with things, but he cut off her words when he pushed the dishrag into her mouth.

  Lela tried to shake her head, to dislodge the material, but he’d put in just enough to render her tongue useless without gagging her.

  Once it was in place, he moved away a few inches, his gaze studying hers.

  “Wink at me.”

  She paused as she considered his odd request, then she winked.

  “That has the same power as the word football. Understand?”

  She nodded, fairly certain she wasn’t going to need the gesture. She sure as hell hadn’t needed the word yet.

  Tucker moved away from her. She hated the distance, but had no way to express her displeasure. She figured that was the purpose of the gag. He was going to keep playing with her and he’d stolen her ability to read him the riot act for it.

  Clever bastard.

  She hated him in that moment. And loved him. And wanted him.

  He’d been back in her life for exactly nineteen days and Tucker had already finished the job he’d started in high school. She was officially ruined for all other men forever.

  “Open your legs, L.B., and hook your ankles around the legs of the chair.”

  She obeyed, trying not to wince as the blast of cool air hit the inferno burning between her thighs.

  “Scoot your ass forward to the edge of the seat.”

  Once again, she moved as he directed. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the air rushing through her nostrils. She was a powder keg set to blow and the damn man hadn’t even touched her yet. Her ass stung slightly from the spanking he’d given her, but that only added more fuel to the fire.

  “Look at me.”

  She opened her eyes.

  Tucker reached out and ran one finger along her slit. One ineffective finger. He lifted it to his lips and sucked off the moisture he’d collected.

  Oh dayum. That was totally hot.

  Almost sexy enough to make her forget how not enough his touch had been. Almost.

  If she’d been able to speak, she would have slung a wide array of curse words and demands his way. He was going too fucking slowly.

  She tried to convey that with an annoyed look, but Tucker either didn’t recognize it or ignored it. Probably the latter, which just served to piss her off more.

  “You’re wet,” he said.

  No shit, Einstein.

  Tucker chuckled and she wondered if he could read minds.

  She groaned when he turned away from her and circled the island. She wanted to scream for him to come back, frustrated by the gag. Lela was tempted to wink just so he’d remove it, but she was afraid he’d untie the apron as well. She didn’t mind that bondage.

  He looked at the vegetables she’d picked from her garden earlier that morning. “Still have a green thumb, I see.” He didn’t bother to look at her for a response.

  She sucked in a deep breath when he picked up a cucumber—the largest one—and returned to her.

  “This is impressive.” She heard the amusement in his tone, knew he was enjoying this interlude way too much. He was a master at sexual teasing. Back in the day, they’d been too young to explore the benefits of foreplay. If they ever managed to find a quiet moment alone, they just went for it, fucking like there was no tomorrow.

  Tucker had clearly figured out there was something to be said for drawing out the moment, building the anticipation. She wanted to hate it, but she couldn’t. This was shaping up to be the single hottest sexual experience of her life and if Tucker’s promise/threat of hours spent inside her was to be believed, they’d only scratched the surface.

  Lela’s throat tightened when Tucker knelt between her outstretched legs, the cucumber still in his hands.

  His eyes remained on her face and she sensed he was waiting for that wink. Lela’s eyes began to dry out as she fought not to blink. She didn’t want him to misread that involuntary action.

  He pressed the cool vegetable against her clit. She bit down on the gag as visions of 9½ Weeks flashed th
rough her brain. Miranda had lifted the movie from her mother’s collection when they were freshmen in high school and they’d watched the scandalous film during a slumber party. Lela remembered how fascinating and arousing the kitchen scene had been. She hadn’t exactly understood her body’s reaction to it at the time, but she definitely got it now.

  Lela wiggled closer to the edge of the chair in obvious invitation.

  Tucker grinned. “If my ego weren’t so solid, I think I’d be intimidated by this cucumber.”

  She giggled, the sound muffled.

  Tucker’s brow creased. “Dammit,” he said, pulling the gag from her mouth. “I’ll probably regret this, but I miss your voice.”

  She licked her lips, then lifted one eyebrow. “You realize that’s my dinner you’re fondling me with.”

  He laughed, the sound loud in a room that had been so quiet just seconds earlier. She loved how his whole face reflected his pleasure and it occurred to her she hadn’t heard him laugh like that since he’d been home. He’d laughed all the time when they were in school, cracking her up with his off-color jokes and taking great delight in teasing her.

  “I love your laugh,” she admitted.

  Her comment caught him off-guard. Then he shrugged. “Sounds rusty to me.”

  She tilted her head. “Lack of use?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I guess so. There hasn’t been much to laugh about lately.”

  She opened her mouth to ask why, but Tucker always seemed to be two steps ahead of her. The question turned to a gasp when he pushed the cucumber inside her pussy an inch or so.

  It felt weird, and Lela struggled to decide if she actually liked the sensation or if it was the naughtiness of the act that appealed to her.

  Tucker rocked the cucumber inside her, slowly, only increasing the depth a little. “What toys do you have in your bedroom?”

  “What makes you think I have any?”

  He scowled. “Dammit, L.B. I better go upstairs and find at least a dildo or I’ll be really pissed.”

  She laughed. “What? Why?”

  “You like sex too freaking much. If you’ve been denying that to yourself all these years…”