Monster Prick

by Kendall Ryan

  Logically though, I know he doesn’t feel that way about me. He's just trying to save me from the awkward experience of doing it with some stranger I met on the Internet. I guess this is just another way he’s looking out for me. It’s just so freaking strange, I can still barely wrap my head around it, even twenty-four hours later.

  “What are you doing to that poor breadstick?” Melanie chuckles, eyeing my plate.

  I look down at the crumbled remnants on the plate and push it away. “I have something kind of crazy to tell you.”

  Her chin perks up in interest, her third slice of pizza forgotten. “Do tell.”

  “Well...you know how I registered on that dating site?”

  She nods. She was totally on board with my plan—practically pushed me to do it, in fact.

  “I mentioned it to my brother and Hudson, and they both kind of freaked out. Hudson insisted on walking me home, and I invited him in so we could talk a little more.”

  “What do you mean he freaked out? Did he pull that bossy prick shit with you again?” She huffs out a sigh.

  “Kind of. I admitted to him that I wanted one of the guys I met online to be my first, and finally lose my virginity once and for all.”

  She rolls her eyes. “It’s not his business who you sleep with, Gracie.”

  “It might be,” I say, taking a sip of my wine to fortify myself. “He, um … offered to be my first.”

  Red wine comes spewing out of Melanie’s nose and mouth before she covers her face, coughing loudly into her cloth napkin. The nearby customers glance over at us until she gets her coughing fit under control. “He what?!” she barks across the table at me.

  I thought Melanie would be happy for me. Excited, even. She knows how I feel about him; I figured she'd squeal and help pick out my outfit and give me advice. I never thought she’d get pissed about his offer. I rush to explain more.

  “After we talked for a while, he offered to help me out. He said my first time shouldn’t be with a random guy, and that we could, um … you know.” My cheeks flush with heat and I look down at the table. How will I have the courage to actually seduce a man if I can’t even say the words? Maybe it is better if Hudson and I just get it over with. I’d die of mortification if I tried to seduce one of my online dates and he turned me down.

  Melanie is shaking her head, her plucked eyebrows drawn together. “A guy doesn’t just offer to help you out by taking your virginity. That’s weird. Really freaking weird.” She scratches her chin. “Unless he actually likes you, too. And even then...”

  I shake my head firmly. “No, he doesn’t, Mel. You and I both know that.”

  She nods, agreeing. Hudson had his chance with me. He’s never acted on it. Never even given me a hint he was interested. It’s time to stop believing in foolish possibilities.

  “Well, I’m against it,” Melanie says finally. “The whole thing is just begging to go wrong. Like...what would your brother say?”

  Hot shame burns through me. Hayden could never find out. Not only would he be super mad at me, but his relationship with Hudson would become very difficult. And they aren’t just best friends—they’re business partners, managing almost twenty million dollars’ worth of real estate together. I would not want to be the reason for breaking any of that up. All I can say is, “Uh …”

  Melanie interrupts my floundering. “Exactly. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Your feelings for Hudson have always run deeper than they should have. After sex—and you have to trust me on this one—women can feel more connected by the experience than men. Aren't you worried about falling even harder for him?”

  For some reason, her sympathetic expression annoys the crap out of me. “It’d just be sex, Mel. I know that.” But her comment has already seeped down inside me, exposing a worry that I didn't want to consider. I can't shake it off now. “Besides, I told him I had to think it over. I still haven’t decided.”

  She nods. “If you do it, my advice is to be careful. Don’t involve your heart. Remember it’s just physical.”

  I nod back, like I have this all under control. But the truth is, now I’m even more confused and unsure about what to do.

  “Come on, let’s go get one more drink. There’s a new club that just opened a few blocks over.”

  I open my mouth to refuse. These shoes aren’t great for walking in, and Mel never stops at one drink. But I realize it’s the practical, level-headed Gracie that’s gotten me into this mess in the first place. I need to be a little more reckless. And there's no time like the present. “Sure. Sounds great.” I plaster on a smile.

  After a short walk to the club, Melanie tugs the front of her shirt down, showing off generous amounts of cleavage, and we’re awarded with immediate entry. No waiting in line for us.

  One drink turns into two and then three. I’m sweaty from dancing, but I’m having fun. I’m glad I loosened up and went with the flow for once. But the flow hasn't given me any answers. I’m still totally and utterly confused about what to do with Hudson’s offer. If I say no, will things get weird between us? Will we still be friends? And if I say yes … I shudder with excitement and fear. I can’t imagine the possibility of saying yes. I know it will change things between us, but my mind won’t even let me explore that. Maybe it’s because I know, deep down, that I’ll chicken out and say no.

  A group of guys buy us our next drink, and I hate that I'm immediately comparing them to Hudson. They don’t hold a candle to his tall, muscular frame, his cocky smile, or his intelligent wit. I can't think of anything I want to say to them...and the short one is way too grabby for my tastes.

  “I have to pee!” I call out to Mel, who’s grinding with some tattooed guy on the dance floor. She gives me a wave and a nod, quietly dismissing me. She’ll be getting lucky tonight. That makes one of us, I think, as I make my way through the crowd and toward the back hallway where the restrooms are located. Of course there’s a line.

  I stop beside the cinder block wall, my feet aching. There are about a dozen girls ahead of me. It’s going to be awhile. As I wait, my mind wanders to Hudson. His strong, fit physique, his spicy scent … the way my heart pounded when he offered to help me.

  Stop it, Gracie. I can't let my brain keep spinning on and on about Hudson. I’m out tonight to have fun.

  As I try to clear my head, I count the girls still in line … ugh. Seven more to go. Wanting to focus on anything other than my aching feet, I let my mind wander to my brother and his new girlfriend, Emery. I’m so happy that he’s found someone. Emery and I are close in age, and I can’t help but compare myself to her. Of course she’s gorgeous, headstrong, and fun, but she also landed a great job immediately upon graduating. It took me six long months of applying, interviewing, and getting rejected before Peterson offered me a position. Emery's no slouch in the boyfriend department either. Even though she claimed she wasn’t looking, it took her, what, all of six weeks living in LA to land a boyfriend who’s crazy about her. And it’s saying something that the man is Hayden. Other than his college girlfriend, which is ancient history, I’ve never seen him in a committed relationship.

  I guess I have one half of the equation. At least I have a great job. And maybe if I said yes to Hudson … I’d be one step closer to moving forward with my romantic life, too. I roll my eyes at myself. Yeah, I doubt that a pity fuck from my brother’s friend counts. But beggars can’t be choosers, right?

  The skin on the back of my neck prickles. I can feel someone watching me. I spin around and am stunned to see Hudson standing right in front of me, his dark, hungry eyes on mine. How is he here, at the same club on the same night? Kismet, maybe?

  “What are you doing here?” I blurt.

  He raises one dark brow, still studying me intently. “The better question is, what are you?”

  “Melanie and I …” I start, before realizing he didn’t answer my question, I'm not sure what I'm about to say, and I don’t owe him an explanation anyway. I snap my mouth closed, s
taring at him. Hudson looks incredible. I can’t believe it was just last night that we sat huddled on my couch looking at those online profiles. He’s dressed in a navy button-down shirt with the sleeves pushed up his muscular forearms and a pair of dark wash jeans. I can smell the traces of his rich cologne. Crisp notes of pine, along with something sultry and dark that I can’t put my finger on. I want to lean in closer and inhale against his neck, feel the brush of his stubble along my cheek.

  Hudson clears his throat, pulling me from my little fantasy. “Did you have a chance to think about my offer?”

  “I still don’t understand,” I admit. “Why are you doing this?”

  “What’s there to understand?” He leans closer and I can smell a trace of whiskey on his breath. “My hard cock, your tight little virgin cunt. It’ll be fun.” He winks at me, his full lips tugging up in a smirk. The prick.

  For a second I think he’s teasing me, just like he did when we were kids. But then I recognize the telltale edge to his voice. He wants me. Even if he doesn't return my feelings, he really does want me. Suddenly I feel powerful and desirable in a way I haven’t before.

  “Kiss me first,” I say. “To see if we have chemistry.”

  He brings his mouth close...then stops, his lips resting mere inches from mine. “You’re going to be the end of me, you know that right?” he whispers. Before I can answer, his teeth graze my lower lip, and then he sucks it into his mouth, nibbling lightly. It’s so unexpectedly sexy that I groan into his mouth and clutch his shirt in my fingers. Sweeping his tongue against mine, Hudson takes control of the kiss. It’s hot and powerful and way different than I’ve ever been kissed before. My inner muscles clench deliciously and I groan again when suddenly he pulls away.

  “How’s that for chemistry? Did I pass your test?” His tone drops from smugness into something deeper, something primal that tugs between my legs. “Are your little white panties soaked right now?”

  The prick is absolutely correct. And I don’t even try to deny it. I want to feel his lips on mine again. And again.

  “My cock has been rock hard all fucking day. Ever since last night …” he groans. “It’s all I can think about.” He dips his head again, inhaling against the side of my neck and making a small growl of frustration. The revelation is mind-blowing. Hearing Hudson admit what I do to him—hearing how much power I have over him—is nothing short of staggering. Confidence and arousal rush through me. Little ol’ me, with one of LA's most desirable men dying to touch me. I almost can't believe it...but my body sure does, and it wants to answer his call.

  “This wouldn’t be just sex, Gracie,” he says next, totally surprising me. My heart surges. Does he mean...?

  But then he continues, “I’d eat your pussy until you begged me to stop. I’d teach you how to please a man. How to give a proper blow job.”

  My heart comes crashing back down to Earth. Not that his suggestions aren't hot as hell, but they're still “just sex” as far as I'm concerned, and I'm getting tired of him dodging my question. I give him a contemptuous smile. “How thoughtful of you.” Taking a step closer, I look up into his dark eyes. “Why would you even want to do this? With a virgin, you’d have to go slow and do all the work. Besides, I’ll probably suck at it.”

  He chuckles darkly. “You really have no fuckin’ idea, do you?”

  “About what?” I blink up at him. I seriously have no clue. And I hate that.

  “How good you’re going to feel around me, how your tight little body is going to clench around me, milk my cock...trust me, it’ll be fun for me. I can’t wait to see how many times I’m going to make you come.”

  I draw a shuddering breath, feeling so shaky and overwhelmed that I want to collapse into him. Somehow my legs hold me upright. Thank you, God.

  “Tomorrow night. Eight o’clock. My place,” he whispers. With that, he turns and leaves.

  I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do, but as I watch the powerful muscles in his shoulders flex as he walks away, I want nothing more than to rush out after him, hear more of those dirty endearments on his lips, and feel his mouth on mine. I can’t believe that kiss. It was passionate. Intense. Better than I could have imagined, better than my wildest teenage dreams—where Hudson always played the starring role. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or that kiss, or the fact that when faced with men who weren’t Hudson, I wanted nothing to do with them...but I think I may have my answer after all.

  Shit. I don't know if tomorrow night will come too fast or too slow.

  Chapter Six

  Hudson

  It's finally Sunday, and my first “date” with Gracie is in less than four hours. I feel like a nervous teenager again. Sweating in front of my prom date's front door, checking my breath for the hundredth time, barely daring to imagine where the evening might take us. It's a little ridiculous; I'm a grown-ass man with plenty of experience under my belt. I lost my virginity before I could even drive, and my bed has rarely been empty since. I shouldn't be sweating this at all.

  But I've never had an evening with someone like Gracie—because there is no one like her. She's special to me, for so many reasons. I only distracted myself with all those other women in the first place because I couldn't have her. And she's handed me a huge gift; it's my responsibility to make sure her first time is as good as possible. There can be nothing commonplace about what we're doing tonight. In a way, I'm almost as new to this as she is.

  At least Gracie's father won't answer the door with a service pistol tucked in his belt, unlike my actual senior prom date. Her big brother, on the other hand...

  As best I can, I push away the thought of Hayden. But our friendship lingers in the back of my mind.

  I quickly vacuum and dust my apartment, then head to the liquor store. I consider tequila for Sunrises, but I don't want either of us to get too drunk tonight, so I choose some wine from Sonoma Valley: White Zinfandel for her, Cabernet Sauvignon for me. I stick the white in the fridge, leave the red on the kitchen counter, and jump in the shower. I shave, brush my teeth, and pat on a little cologne. I decide on blue jeans and a short-sleeved polo, casual but not sloppy.

  Finally there's nothing else to prepare. I even loaded up some chill-out music to play quietly in the background. So I settle onto the couch to kill time with a political thriller novel, the latest from my favorite author. I've been reading it every night before bed. Its plot is tense, its characters are intriguing, and I've got no hope in hell of concentrating on it right now. My eyes wander over the same page three times without absorbing a single word.

  At the quick knock on my door, I gratefully drop the book on the coffee table and get up to answer.

  Gracie is wearing a light blue sundress, its halter top cradling her breasts and her chestnut hair cascading in waves down her exposed back. Her apple-red toes peek out of flat beige sandals. She usually paints her nails some shade of pink or purple; maybe she wanted to look more grown-up for such a momentous occasion? If that was the case, mission fucking accomplished. She's always cute, but right now, she's beautiful. Breathtaking, if I'm being honest.

  She offers me an adorable smile somewhere between excited and nervous. “Um...hey,” she says. “Am I late?”

  I shake my head. “No, you're right on time.” I stand aside so she can step through and then lock the door. “You want something to drink? I've got a White Zin chilled and ready to go.”

  She laughs a little as she toes off her sandals. “God, yes. You know me too well.”

  And I'm about to get to know you even better. This is so damn awkward. Buying the booze was definitely a smart move. We'll both need some time to loosen up before we get down to business, or the mood will be all wrong.

  I pour our wine and we sit on the couch, like we did at her place just two short nights ago. Gracie inclines her head towards the stereo system. “Is this song by Fistful Of Colors?”

  “Yeah, actually. You have a good ear. I didn't know you were into electronic music.” For t
he most part, I'm not either. But the downtempo stuff makes great background noise when I'm working, reading...or entertaining women.

  Gracie shrugs. The tension is already starting to ease out of her face. “Melanie used to love it, so I heard some of those bands a lot in college. That and R&B.”

  We talk about music for maybe fifteen minutes. When she trails off for more than a couple seconds, I decide that's my cue to move things along. “So, tell me. What were you thinking of for tonight?” I ask bluntly. I have a few ideas in my back pocket, and I can run this show for her if she wants, but I'm curious about whether she had anything in mind.

  She pauses, wineglass at her lips, and slowly puts it back down again. Her cheeks have turned pink. “Uh...I don't know. I mean...w-what do you mean?”

  “What do you want to learn?” I set my own glass on the coffee table. “I guess I should ask what you've done before. No point in spending too much time on stuff you already know.”

  “I've, um...” She takes a deep breath and tries to quickly rattle off her list. “I've made out with a few guys before. Heavy petting with clothes on. Second base once or twice. But I've never touched a...penis, or let anyone touch me...down there. Or done anything naked.”

  I tamp down a tiny flare of jealousy. It only makes sense that she'd have at least a little experience—a girl who looks like Gracie would have no shortage of male attention. And this date will go smoother if she's not totally naïve. Why didn't she ever go further, though? Was nobody the right guy for her?

  I decide to table that question for another time and focus on my task. “How about we just kiss for now?” I suggest. “Start simple and see where things go.”

  Cheeks fully red now, she nods at me. I lean in...and it begins.

  Just like last night, her mouth feels amazing, so soft and lush. I can already taste the hot nectar of the sweet wine on her breath. I can only imagine how the rest of her will feel and taste.

  I lick at her vanilla-glossed lips, asking for permission, and she opens up with a barely audible sigh. My groin heats up and my core muscles relax and tense at the same time—a familiar sensation for a familiar dance. This is what I know best. Why was I stressing out before? With Gracie, even a simple kiss is heady, more exciting than any other woman I've known, but I'm still in my element. And I have a job to do.