My Rules (Kingston Lane Book 2)

“Of course you can,” he whispers darkly. “Even better if you participate.”

I swallow the lump in my throat as my eyes drop down his body. He’s large and rippled with muscles. His skin is tanned, and with the water beading all over him . . . the vision nearly steals my breath.

Good lord . . . the finest specimen of man I have ever laid eyes on.

With his eyes locked on mine, he gives himself a long, slow stroke, and my sex instinctively clenches in appreciation.

He strokes himself again. “You want to touch me, Rebecca?”

I nod before my brain kicks into gear, and he gives me a slow, sexy smile.

“Come here,” he breathes as he works himself again. The room is filling with steam, and I feel a rush of arousal throb down below.

Dear lord.

He steps out of the water and toward me. My heart hammers in my chest, and it takes all my strength not to step back from him in fear.

Stop it.

I anchor myself to the floor as my eyes hold his.

Seeing Blake like this is new and exciting, and if I’m being completely honest, a little terrifying. I always knew he would be something; I mean, the way women fall to their knees and worship the ground he walks on has been a hint.

But this . . .

Seeing him naked and in the flesh is a new level of enlightenment.

He’s dominant and confident and not at all what I envisioned . . . although thinking back, I don’t even know what I actually envisioned.

Because nothing could have prepared me for this visual sensation.

“Come.” He takes my hand and pulls me in under the water with him as his lips take mine. He puts his hand down and strokes himself again. My eyes close at the feel of his lips against mine, of being so close to him that I can feel his arousal as it seeps through his skin, as if it’s a tangible force.

We kiss, slow and tender.

A mile away from the vigor, his hand is stroking his cock as it hangs heavily between us.

Oh god . . .

I begin to lose control of myself, a need deep inside of me wanting to take over.

Primal instinct to mate.

My body wants what he has . . . and she wants it hard.

I reach down and wrap my hand around his cock and give him a slow, long stroke, and his eyes flutter closed. “Yes,” he moans into my mouth.

Urged on by his reaction, I stroke him again, harder this time, and our kiss intensifies.

It deepens, along with the connection.

His hands begin to roam over my wet nightdress that is now totally see-through.

He kneads my breasts with aggression, and it nearly drives me to my breaking point.

I whimper into his mouth.

His lips drop to my neck as his hand slides up my thigh and down the front of my panties. Teeth graze my skin as he slides his fingers through my dripping-wet lips.

“Fuck . . . ,” he moans. “So wet, baby.”

My strokes get harder, almost violent, as a means to try and put out this fire.

He slides one finger deep into my sex, and I flutter.

Don’t come.

We keep kissing, and he adds another and another. Pumping me hard, working my flesh as he fucks me with his hand.

Oh . . .

I tip my head back, teetering on the edge.

“There’s one thing you need to know about me,” he whispers darkly.

“What’s that?”

He jerks his hand aggressively. “I never come first.” He lifts one of my legs and wraps it around his waist and begins to fuck me with his hand, so deep and so fucking well. Massaging my G-spot like nobody ever has.

Oh god . . . Is that where it is?

I see stars.

All the beautiful, blinding stars in the galaxy.

I can’t even kiss him; my mouth is hanging open as he overtakes my body with his. It’s never been like this before, so animalistic and raw and real.

The echo of the water sloshing sounds throughout my bathroom, and he almost growls as he bites my neck.

We fall back and hit the wall, both of our hands claiming each other.

Demanding the orgasms we want.

He puts his mouth to my ear and slows his fingers. I feel his breath up against my skin as he slowly and softly rubs his thumb over my clitoris.

The change in tempo has me about to explode, and I whimper.

I feel him smile up against my cheek, knowing that in this moment, I’m his puppet.

He rubs again, soft and barely there, before plunging hard and deep inside my sex.

“Oh fuck,” I moan.

He repeats the delicious combination. Barely there over my clit and then hitting me hard deep inside. My legs begin to open by themselves, and I am lost.

This man is the master.

His thumb flutters over my clitoris, and then he adds another finger and fucks me deep. “Now,” he growls. “You come now.”

My body hears his command, and I shudder hard as an orgasm rips through me.

My sight nearly blacks out, and I tip my head back and moan out loud.

He puts his hand over mine on his cock and begins to fuck my hand hard.

Violent.

“Like that,” he growls.

I feel him swell as his grip gets tighter. His girth is huge, and I can feel the thick vein that courses down the full length of him. The head so engorged and dripping with want.

Ahhhhhh.

It’s all I can do to hold on, to stay up on my feet. My body is here, but I am floating way up above, watching us from the heavens as I have an out-of-body experience.

“Say when,” he whispers darkly in my ear.

What . . . when . . .

Who has this kind of control?

I jerk him harder; his face contorts, and goddamn, I thought I liked Blake Grayson before.

Now I’m addicted.

“When.” I grip him tighter, and his hips take over, and he pushes forward and lifts my nightdress as he pins me to the wall. Our teeth clash as he comes hard up against my stomach.

Hearts race between us as we pant into each other’s kiss.

A high . . . so high.

He rubs his semen into my skin as he kisses me; there’s a tangible feeling between us. Or maybe it’s just my heart free-falling from my chest.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He grabs the bottom of my nightdress. “Arms up.” I raise my arms, and he slowly lifts my wet nightdress up and over my head and throws it to the side.

Suddenly I’m standing before him completely naked. My eyes search his, and he gives me a soft smile and kisses me. “You’re more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.” Without another word, he drops to his knees in front of me and picks up one of my legs and puts it over his shoulder. I grab his shoulders to steady myself as his tongue swipes through my wet, swollen flesh.

“I’ve just . . .” I shudder at the feeling of his tongue on me. “Come.”

“I know,” he whispers into me. His eyes close in pleasure. “I told you I’m cleaning you up.”

What the fuck?

He spreads me apart with his fingers and licks me deeper. My eyes roll back in my head.

“Hmm,” he moans into me. “You taste so fucking good.”

The blood begins to drain from my face as arousal thumps through me.

How is he so . . . hot?

He licks me deeper and deeper, and I cling to his shoulders as I lose all coherent thought. My body begins to take on her own agenda to move against him.

“Hmm,” he whispers. “That’s it, baby; ride my face.”

His thumbs part me wider as his teeth graze my clitoris, and I shudder as another orgasm screams through me. He smiles into me as his eyes hold mine.

Is this a dream? Am I going to wake up any moment and realize this is all a figment of my imagination?

He kisses the inside of my thigh and stands. “That’s all for today.” He gives me a slow, sexy smile as he begins to wash me with the body wash. “Wouldn’t want to rush things.”

I stare up at him in awe . . .

Okay, what the hell is this hocus-pocus?

If he’s trying to seduce me, he needn’t bother; I’m already seduced. He can fuck me any way he wants to.

He turns me away from him and washes my shoulders and down my back, my arms, and then down lower, to my back entrance.

I close my eyes as he explores my body . . . That feels good.

“Where’s your piercing?” I ask.

“I took it out today.” His hands come around to the front to wash my sex. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

I smile softly at the tiles. “Well, seeing it is the only thing I’ve been able to think about since you had it done.”

“What?” He turns me to face him. “You’ve been thinking about my cock, Rebecca?”

“Maybe.” I smirk.

“You bad, bad girl.” He bends and nips my ear, and I jump in surprise as goose bumps scatter up my arms. “You’ll be punished for that.”

Yes . . .

He goes back to washing me, and then he washes himself. I stand with my hands on his hips, frozen with arousal, or is it fear . . . or am I just fangirling so hard that I’ve lost the ability to function?

He’s confident. I’ve never . . . I mean, I know I’ve only ever been with one man before.

But Blake Grayson is an entirely new species.

He turns the taps off, and I frown in question. Wait, are we . . .

He smiles down at me, as if reading my mind. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” He gets a towel and wraps it around my shoulders and begins to dry me. “We are not rushing this.”

“Blake . . .” I screw up my face. “You just cleaned me up with your tongue; it’s a little bit late for that.”

He chuckles as he keeps drying me. “Baby . . . I haven’t even started with the things I’m going to do with you.”

Suddenly I’m feeling way out of control, and alarm bells scream in the distance.

His dark eyes hold mine. “When and if we have sex . . . you’ll fucking beg for it.”

I swallow the fear in my throat . . . because I want to get on my knees and beg right now.

Help.

Two orgasms in and I’m ruined.

He dries me and wraps us both in white towels, and we walk down the hallway. I go to walk down the stairs and he stops still, causing me to look back at him. “We’re not sleeping on your couch forever, Rebecca.”

“I know.”

He raises an eyebrow with a silent dare, and I know he’s right; I need to get over myself.

Sleeping in my bed with a new man seems so foreign, but after what just happened in the bathroom, the couch will no longer cut it as a sleeping arrangement.

“Okay.” I nod, feeling stupid.

Damn it, why do I always revert back to my old habits?

John is never coming back, and I don’t even want him to, so why would I still think of my bedroom as half his?

The house is all mine now, remember?

Determined to do better, I walk in and pull the blankets back. You want to sleep in my bed . . . fine, let’s do this.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” he asks.

“Maybe a glass of water?”

“Sure.” He picks up the remote and flicks the television on. “We can watch our movie up here.”

I give him a stifled smile; I think he’s trying to kill the awkwardness before it arrives.

And it will; it has to. We’ve been friends for years.

Five minutes later, he walks back into the bedroom looking like a supermodel. White towel around his waist and rippled muscles. He has a tray with two glasses of water and a tub of ice cream and two spoons.

“Nightcap?” He throws me a playful wink as he puts the tray down on my bedside table.

I smile up at the sleepover god. “I suppose some sugar would counteract the boredom of tonight.”

He widens his eyes and launches over and play wrestles me as he throws me onto my back. He bites my shoulder, and I laugh out loud.

“Wrong answer, Rebecca.”

Blake

Sunlight peeks through the crack of the drapes, and the birds sing loudly outside. The serene sound of Rebecca’s regulated breathing is all I can hear.

I lie on my side, staring at her like the creep that I am.

She’s perfect.

And I knew it; I knew she would be. I knew from the first moment I laid eyes on her that this is where we were going to end up.

I hate that she didn’t.

I frown at the wayward thought. Stop it.

I can’t think like that. She was married. Of course she didn’t think of me like that.

So why did I?

How did I know on first sight?

She rolls toward me and lies on her side, and I smile in appreciation. I don’t care how we got here; I’m just glad that we did. Her long dark hair is splayed across the pillow, and her eyelashes flutter as she dreams. Her skin is creamy and alluring, and my eyes drop lower to her bare breast, then down over her hips.

The throb in my dick notifies me of his intentions.

No.

Not this morning. We are not having a quickie in the morning as our first time.

We’re waiting.

She rolls over onto her back, and her legs fall open, and my cock instantly becomes painfully hard.

The carnal need to fuck begins to take me over.

Stop.

I close my eyes to try and will away my arousal. I want to wake up with her and make her breakfast and . . .

Throb . . . throb . . . throb . . .

Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

If I stay here, we are 100 percent fucking.

With one last long look at the goddess, I quietly climb out of bed. I sneak out of the bedroom and close the door behind me. I find my clothes in the bathroom and gingerly put them on.

I don’t want to sneak out, but I literally have no choice.

I got away with last night, but I’m pretty sure if I come in hard and heavy this morning, it isn’t going to end well for me.

This is for the best.

I walk down the stairs and put my shoes on and then peer out the front window through the crack in the curtains. Where’s Carol? That busybody is just waiting to catch me sneaking out of here. I mean, I do sleep over all the time.

So why am I worried about it today? Because last night was different.

A broad smile crosses my face. I can hardly contain my excitement.

It happened.

I get a vision of us in the shower last night and glance back at the stairs . . . a rematch?

No.

I keep looking through the curtains for Carol. Why am I even worried about her, anyway? Just go out there and act normal.

I go to the front door and drop my shoulders to psych myself up. Lying isn’t my strong point; it never has been. In fact, I’m completely useless at it.

I open the door in a rush and quietly close it behind me. I look left and I look right, and the coast seems clear. I hotfoot it across the grass toward my house.

“Good morning, Blake,” Carol’s voice calls out.

Damn it.

I glance over to see her talking to Henley and Juliet on their driveway.

“Morning, Carol.”

Henley’s eyes widen as he connects the dots, and he points at me. Juliet’s eyes widen farther.

Fuck.

Code red. I’m caught.

“Have a nice night, dear?” Carol asks all-knowingly.

Fuck you, Carol.

“Yes. Called in and watched a movie with Rebecca on the way home from my date. Slept on her couch as usual.”

“Oh, I see.” Carol smiles. Henley rolls his eyes, and Juliet continues to stare at me wide eyed.

I throw them a wave and march to my house.

“Wait up,” Henley calls as he runs to catch up with me.

Not now, fucker.

He falls into step beside me. “Why you . . . old dog.”

“What are you talking about?” I open my front door, march into the kitchen, and turn my coffee machine on.

“Rebecca is the woman in the shower?”

“No,” I scoff.

He gestures to my hard dick in my pants. “Sure about that?”

“Oh my god,” I whisper in a rush. “You are un-fucking-believable.”

“So . . . ?” He smiles broadly and holds his hands up. “How was it?”

I stare at him blankly for a moment before I break and smile right back. “Incredible.”

He slaps me on the back hard in excitement. “Ha, good man.”

I can’t wipe the smile from my face, and I turn my back to him to make the coffee.

“So . . .” He rocks up onto his toes as he waits for the details.

“So what?”

“How did things go? What happened?”

“I’m not discussing Rebecca with you.”

“Why not? You discuss everyone with me.”

“This is Rebecca . . . our mutual friend, and I’m going to respect her privacy.”

“Oh . . .” He stares at me for a beat and then puts his weight onto his back foot. “Fuck me, you’ve done your nuts already.”

“What?” I scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I keep making the coffee.

“Be careful, man.”

I hand him his coffee. “What does that mean?”

“Hurt people hurt people.”

“Huh?” I sip my coffee.

“Just that. Hurt people hurt people.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re so fucking dramatic.”

“No. I’m not. When I was seeing my psychologist, he told me that hurt people hurt people . . . without even meaning to, they just do. And I have to agree. You asked for my opinion, and I’m giving it to you.”

“Well. Firstly, I didn’t ask for your stupid opinion, and secondly, Rebecca is long over her divorce.”

He lets out a deep sigh, as if this is the worst thing in the world that could have happened. “You always said you were never going to be the rebound guy.”

“I’m not the rebound guy.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Oh my god.” I point to the door. “Fuck off and go home already.”

“All I’m saying is be careful, that’s all.”

“We kissed. You have nothing to worry about.”

“You didn’t have sex?” He frowns.

“We didn’t have sex,” I huff. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Good.” He sips his coffee. “Just . . . stay cool, okay?”

I screw up my face and hold my hand up. “When am I ever not cool?”

“When it’s Rebecca.” He widens his eyes.

The front door bangs, and Antony comes into view. “Hey,” he says as he walks to the coffee machine. “Carol told me you hooked up with Rebecca last night,” he says matter-of-factly. He pushes the button and glances over at me for confirmation. “So, how’d you do?”

“What?” I snap. “How does she fucking know that? Was she spying through the windows or some shit?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Henley shrugs. “It’ll be on the national news tomorrow.”

“This street is an invasion of my privacy,” I huff as I open the fridge to try and find something to eat. “I have a good mind to move.”

“You should,” Antony agrees. Henley smiles and clinks his coffee cup with Ant’s. “Best idea you’ve ever had.”

“Please go home.” I slam my sad refrigerator shut. “But first, you’re taking me out for breakfast.”

Rebecca

“Hello.” I hear Juliet’s voice as she comes through my front door.

“Hi.”

“So . . . ?” She smiles.

“So.” I hunch up my shoulders in excitement. “I . . . kind of got to second base.”

“With Blake?”

My eyes widen. “What . . . what makes you say that?”

Oh crap, how the hell does she know?

“I saw him sneaking out of here.” She puts her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrows. “So . . . yeah, Rebecca. Do you have something to tell me?”

“Um.” I wince. “I was going to tell you, but I wasn’t sure if I was right about it, and it turns out I was, and now I’m . . .”

“Relax.” She laughs as she pulls me into a hug. “This is amazing.”

“Is it, though?” I whisper. “He’s a player and a smooth talker, and I don’t know if . . .”

“Stop overthinking this. It’s Blake. He’s the best guy in the world, and if it doesn’t work out, so what? At least you broke the drought with someone you can trust to look after you.”

I wince. The thought is depressing.

“He’s not a serial killer. At least we know that.”

“I guess.” I smile.

She jumps up and down on the spot. “How was it?”

“It was good.” I try to act cool.

“Just good?”

I begin to jump alongside her. “It was fucking unbelievable.”

I glance at my watch: 5:00 p.m.

Hmm, not a word from Blake . . .

Maybe last night didn’t go as well as I thought it did.

I hold the remote to the television and change the channel. I’m in search of something to watch to take my mind off the whole situation.

Blake was gone when I woke up, and then . . . nothing.

I thought he would have called or come over or . . . I don’t fucking know. More than this, anyway.

I hear my front step creak, and I sit up. Knock, knock.

He’s here.

I fly off my couch and open the door, and there he stands. Six foot three of perfect male specimen.

“Hello, Miss Dalton.” He smirks. He steps forward, forcing me to step back.

“Hello, Dr. Grayson.” I smirk right back.

He keeps walking until I am backed up against the wall, and he bends and softly kisses me. “Good morning.”

“Ha,” I scoff. “You’re ten hours late.”

He kisses me quickly again. “Better late than never.” He looks around my house. “I can’t stay long.”

Oh . . .

“On account of me taking things slow,” he adds.

“Oh.” I smile with relief. “Right.”

“I just wanted to come over and talk about Cancún.”

“Uh-huh.” I act casual.

“I made some calls today and was able to reschedule some of my appointments, so . . .” He shrugs. “I can swindle a few extra days off.”

Shit . . . I don’t think I can. My face falls. “How many days?”

“Maybe we could stay until Wednesday. I mean, that’s if you can take the time off. It’s okay if you can’t.”

“No, no,” I stammer as I try to think of a solution. “I’ll take some annual leave or something. It’s just if they can’t get someone to cover my class, that’s all.”

“Okay.” His eyes hold mine, and they have that look that he gets, the mischievous one that I love.

“Why do you want to stay longer in Cancún?” I act dumb.

“I have a few things in mind I would like to do.”

“Such as?”

“Go to the gym, play golf. That sort of thing.”

“Oh.” I nod. “Right, well, maybe I can’t get the time off, after all.”

He grabs me aggressively and pins me to the wall. “Get the fucking time off.” He bites my neck. “Or else.”

I giggle up at the ceiling as his teeth ravage my neck. “Or else what?”

“Or else you won’t be able to come to the gym or play golf.” He steps back from me and gives me a broad smile.

My heart flutters in my chest at the sight of him.

“So . . .” He steps back again. “I’ll see you later in the week.”

When?

“Okay.” I act casual.

What time of what day will I see you?

He takes me into his arms and hugs me as he holds me tight.

Honestly . . .

His lips take mine as he kisses me, and I feel my feet float from the floor. A little tongue, a little suction, and a whole lot of forbidden promise.

The way he kisses is just so . . .

“Goodbye.” He steps back, but I’m not ready to say goodbye yet. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him back down to kiss again.

“Did you put your piercing back in?” I ask.

His big hands wrap around my waist as he pulls me close. “You know, for someone taking things slow, you sure talk about my cock a lot.”

I smile against his lips. “Well, it’s a very interesting topic.”

He chuckles and steps back, and I know he’s making himself leave just as much as I’m making myself let him go.

“Try to get the extra time off,” he reminds me as he walks through the front door and out onto my porch.

“Okay.” I lean on the doorjamb and watch him walk down the front steps.

“Oh.” He turns around and comes back. “By the way, Carol is onto us.”

“I heard.” I smirk.

“I thought we were keeping it a secret?”

“Why?”

He frowns. “You don’t want to keep it a secret until your divorce is final?”

“I got the house signed over to me last week.” I beam proudly.

“You did?” His eyes widen. “That’s fantastic.” He picks me up and spins me around, knocking me from my feet. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had so much going on, I must have forgotten.”

“This is great.” He kisses me again. “We’ll celebrate in Cancún.”

“Okay.”

I watch him walk down the front steps and back over to his house as a dreamy sense of contentment washes over me. We are really doing this; it’s actually happening.

Wait a minute . . . I just told him it’s okay to tell people. What happened to my plan of taking this slow? Telling people is the opposite of slow.

Ugh, Rebecca.

You are officially hopeless.

“Okay, everyone.” I smile at my class. “Grab your library bags. We are going up to visit Mrs. Jones for story time.”

Knock, knock. I glance up to see Marlene from the front office standing at the door with a giant crystal vase filled with the biggest, most beautiful red roses that I have ever seen, and my eyes widen.

“Miss Dalton, you have a very special delivery.” She smiles broadly.

I nearly skip over to her. “Thank you so much.”

“Oh wow,” my kids gush with excitement. “Who are they from, Miss Dalton?” someone calls.

Ahhh, Blake sent me roses.

Hot and romantic: this man is winning at everything. I set them on my desk and smile goofily as I open the card.

Fifteen years ago today, we went on our first date.

Every happy memory I ever had is with you.

Of you.

You were my first love.

My only love, my last love.

Forever your husband,

John