Each Step Like Knives Read online

  "Johnny, you'll have to forgive me if all of this is a little difficult to fathom."

  He made that gesture she thought meant love again. Seeing it made her heart pitter patter, and she scolded herself for being foolish. She had no idea if that's what he meant, and even if it was, it was ridiculous to think he could actually love her. They'd just met!

  "What am I going to do with you?" she asked aloud, though the question was meant for herself.

  He got a glint in his eye she couldn't mistake. The front of his borrowed pants expanded. Helena backed away, heart pounding.

  "No!"

  Johnny paused, again looking puzzled. He reached for her hands. She didn't pull away. She couldn't. She should. She just couldn't.

  "I just showered," she whispered as he bent his head to capture her lips.

  He laughed against her mouth and reached up to stroke her wet hair. His grip settled on her shoulders momentarily before sweeping down over her back and settling on her butt. He pulled her closer to him. His erection rose against her belly and Helena had no problem imagining it inside her.

  A lover who couldn't talk. One who could come multiple times. One who seemed to care solely for her pleasure. How many women would have begged to be where she was? Helena's head swirled from the sensual onslaught of Johnny's kisses.

  She really ought to push him away. To stop this. But it felt so good, so irresistible. Maybe just one more time...

  Johnny lifted her as though she weighed no more than a feather. For a moment, though, his face tightened in concentration like he was in pain, and Helena felt self-conscious. After that, he started kissing her again and she forgot to worry if she'd overindulged in too many desserts.

  He found her bedroom and kicked the door open. He put her down on the bed as smoothly as though they were flying. He covered her, but didn't overwhelm her. He was a big man, and strong, but not intimidating. He settled between her legs and began to rock gently against her.

  The towel she'd been wearing had disappeared somewhere along the way, and she was naked beneath him. His mouth left hers and traced a trail of liquid fire along her jaw, her throat, the curve of her shoulder and the peak of her nipple. He suckled there for a few moments, until she began to wriggle under him. He flicked his tongue once more on the taut bud then drifted lower.

  Could she possibly come again after being satisfied so many times already? Helena had no idea if her body was capable of such rejuvenation, but she was happy to try and find out. Her pussy tingled as Johnny lapped at it. He suckled her swollen clit with the same finesse and consideration he'd shown her nipple. His finger slipped inside her, and Helena lifted her hips to meet his thrust.

  The next instant, he moved up her body and smoothly sheathed his cock deep inside her. He rested there for a moment, his forehead pressed to hers and his chest hot on her breasts. Then he began to move.

  Earlier in the kitchen, she'd been overcome with desire. Their coupling had been frenzied. Now, Johnny moved as slowly as though they floated in water. Gentle and rocking. Every thrust pressed his pelvis against her clit while his penis filled her.

  Her first orgasm rippled slowly through her, while the second built almost immediately after. She tilted her pelvis upward and used her heels to urge him to thrust into her harder. When he did, she came a third time from the force of his thrusts alone.

  A man who could have multiple orgasms might concentrate so much on his own climaxes he wouldn't notice his partner's, but Johnny wasn't like that. As her final climax faded, his body shuddered with his own. He kissed her breathless, then laid softly down on her until his body stopped twitching. He didn't wait for her to ask before he rolled off and curled his arms around her.

  Helena barely had time to ponder at his consideration because her eyes closed and she slept.

  "I can't believe I just scrogged you like a monkey for the sixth time in twenty-four hours." Helena murmured the words, uncertain until she heard her voice that she'd spoken aloud.

  Johnny merely sighed and pulled her closer. His hand stroked her hair from the crown down to her shoulders, then back again. The gesture felt somehow way more intimate than having her thighs clamped around his ears had. Helena sat up, suddenly uncomfortable.

  "I wanted a man who couldn't talk," she told him. He looked at her with his head tilted. She touched the hands that had played her like an orchestra. With his fingers pressed together, she couldn't even see the webbing.

  She didn't want to think about that right now. She got out of bed and motioned to him. "I think we need to get out of here for a while."

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed without hesitation, though she noticed his face tightened when he put his feet on the floor. Naked, he stood, and she almost lost her resolve. He was magnificent. Tall, lean, with a cock that wouldn't quit and even now, despite the hours of lovemaking they'd already shared, twitched and began to rise.

  "Hold on, stud-muffin." Helena held up her hand and laughed. "This cowgirl needs a break from riding. I'm going to be too sore to stand if we keep up this pace."

  She didn't really hope he understood her, but he smiled and gave her a leer she could easily recognize. He said something with his talented hands then repeated the motions slowly, and in a simpler manner.

  "Why do I get the idea you're talking down to me?" She watched him make the motions again. "You want to know if I would like to walk somewhere."

  He nodded then pointed out the window that overlooked the driveway.

  "Not the beach?"

  His eyes looked shadowed for a moment. Then he shook his head. He pointed again to the sandy path that wound from her house toward the narrow lane that wound through the houses on this part of the island.

  "You want to walk there?"

  He nodded again and gave her a grin she absolutely couldn't resist. "Okay."

  He headed for the door and she put out a hand to stop him. "Wait a minute. You can't go like that."

  He looked down at his naked skin. His hands asked, "Don't you like me this way?"

  She did like him that way. Too much. "I don't think my neighbors would appreciate it."

  He made a fluttering motion with his hands and a short, low sound in his throat. He was laughing. The sound made her giggle, too. Something about being with him made her feel like laughing a lot.

  She pulled a pair of sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt from her drawer and tossed them at him. She'd have to take him to the store soon. She was running out of things that fit him.

  The thought sobered her. Was she actually thinking this could last more than a few days? How long did he plan on staying? What if...what if he couldn't go back?

  "Johnny, do you want to go back where you came from?" There. She'd said it out loud.

  Johnny furrowed his brow then slowly shook his head. His hands moved, so elegant, so fluid. Like he painted pictures in the air. If only I was better at figuring them out, Helena thought in frustration.

  "Never mind. Let's just walk."

  They explored her little piece of Chincoteague, which wasn't much. Her house was in a part of the island rarely bothered by the tourists who overran the place every year in search of sun, surf and the famous wild ponies. She'd have to take Johnny to see them...Helena stopped herself. How on earth would she take him anywhere, looking the way he did?

  He'd reached down to link his fingers through hers while they walked. Every once in a while, he'd point to a bird, or a plant, and she'd tell him what it was called. They waved to her few neighbors, who, if they found him at all unusual, didn't comment.

  By the time they got back to her house, sweat had broken out on his brow, and his fingers had begun to clench down on hers hard enough to hurt. "Johnny, are you okay?"

  He nodded then sat on the edge of her deck. He bent and rubbed at his feet and legs. Helena could see nothing wrong with them, but his lips skinned back from his teeth in a grimace of torment when she touched his feet.

  "What's wrong?"