A Favor for a Favor

by Hunting, Helena

  “I left it in my locker. It’s fine there until Monday.” Stevie produces a set of keys with shaking fingers.

  I snatch them from her hand and drape my suit jacket over her shoulders. I consider going in for another kiss, but the rain is picking up and it’s chilly out here, so I usher her around to the passenger side and help her in.

  Once I’m behind the wheel, I turn the engine over and crank up the heat before I slide my arm across her seat and curl my fingers around the back of her slender neck. We move toward each other like magnets. Our lips meet, and lust crackles around us like static.

  She flicks her tongue out to tease my top lip. “I thought maybe that almost-kiss had been an accident.”

  “It was. I was told to keep it professional while you were rehabbing me.”

  She pulls back. “By who?”

  “My coach. I listened for as long as I could, but the last thing I was going to do was let you come to this event, where your douche ex or one of those wannabe hockey players could make a move, when I should’ve said screw it and done it weeks ago.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m glad you decided to screw it.” Stevie shifts in her seat, her warm palm landing on my cheek, fingertips brushing along my jaw and curling into the hair at the nape of my neck. Her lips part, welcoming me in again. I want to get inside her, taste every single inch of her. I want the smell of her sex all over my skin and my sheets and in my mouth.

  I can’t get close enough to make any of that happen with the center console in my way, so eventually I break the kiss. “I need to get naked with you.”

  “Same.” Stevie starts to loosen my tie.

  While car sex was fun when I was a teenager, it’s definitely not comfortable, or smart, since we’re in the middle of a parking lot. I cover her hand with mine and bring her fingers to my lips. “In a bed, preferably.”

  She blinks a few times and bites her lip. “Right. Yes. Good idea.”

  We come back together for one more kiss that lasts so long the windows start to fog before we separate and buckle ourselves in.

  “We should probably go to my place.” Stevie sounds like she’s trying to be conversational, but her tone is low and husky. She twists her hands in her lap, then stretches her arm across the seat and slips her fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck.

  I’d rather have the smell of her on my sheets, but I don’t want to run into my brother on the way to my bedroom. I also don’t want Stevie to feel compelled to be quiet because she’s worried he’s going to hear. His company never is, but this is not even remotely close to the same. “Sure.”

  The drive home feels like it takes a million years. We make out in the elevator on the way to the penthouse floor and don’t stop until Stevie needs to use her fingers for more than fisting my hair and unbuttoning my shirt.

  I kiss along the bare expanse of her shoulder as she punches in her access code. She gets it wrong the first time and growls, “This card-code combo is a pain in my ass.”

  She manages to get it right the second time, and then we’re stumbling over each other’s feet, crashing through the door in our haste to get inside. Stevie shrugs out of my suit jacket, dropping it in a heap on the floor. She yanks on my tie, pulling my mouth down to hers as she goes to work on unfastening the remaining buttons on my shirt.

  I echo her groan and spin her around, pressing her against the door. It’s never worked properly, so it clicks shut when her back hits it. I run my hands down her sides, grip two handfuls of ass, and pick her up. Stevie wraps her legs around my waist, the sound of fabric tearing making us both pause.

  “Shit. I was going to return this dress,” she mumbles into my mouth.

  “I can cover the cost.” Seeing as I plan to be her boyfriend, I’d like the opportunity to buy her clothes and shit. Especially nice dresses, and panties, and new sports bras, and those athletic shorts I love so much. As hot as Stevie looks all dressed up, I prefer her casual, maybe because that’s when she’s most likely to have her hands on me.

  “You don’t need to do that.” She tips her chin up, not in defiance but because I’m kissing my way up her neck.

  “I’m going to ruin the fuck out of this dress, so I feel it’s only fair that I replace it.” I grind against her, enjoying the fact that I can

  lift her up without it causing me pain;

  get a boner that doesn’t hurt like a motherfucker;

  achieve the friction I’ve been dying for.

  We make out against the door, essentially trying to devour each other through a kiss until the clothed humping isn’t cutting it anymore. I carry her down the hall to her bedroom and kick open the door. The space smells like distilled Stevie: something sweet like cake, a hint of her baby powder deodorant, the freshness of clean laundry, and a vaguely floral scent that I’m pretty sure belongs to her shampoo.

  The bed isn’t at all girly or frilly. The comforter is a geometric gray pattern layered over white, and there aren’t seven million throw pillows to contend with.

  I don’t set her down on the edge of the bed. Instead I keep my grip on her ass with one hand and use the other to help hoist myself up on the mattress, spinning us around until I can lay her down on the pillows.

  “You’re going to mess your groin up again before we even get to the good stuff with this shit,” Stevie chastises, lips moving along the edge of my jaw, teeth nipping gently.

  “Don’t worry. It’s not going to screw with my game.”

  She shimmies back until her head hits the pillow. “It’s not your game I’m worried about.” She grabs the front of my shirt, dragging me closer, and parts her legs so I can fit myself between them.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “You compromising your ability to fuck me properly.” She hooks one leg around my waist and pulls me down on top of her.

  I settle into the cradle of her hips, so damn ready to get my hands and mouth all over her and my achy cock inside her. At least the ache is from being hard for the last hour and not because my balls feel like they’re trying to detach from my body. “You want to stretch me out before we get started?” I roll my hips, and she arches on a soft moan.

  “Not really, no.”

  I nuzzle into the hollow of her throat, breathing her in. “You can do that after, then.”

  “I better not have the energy to do anything but sleep after you’re done with me.”

  I push up on my arms so I can meet her hot, needy gaze. “Is that a challenge?”

  She grins. “You respond better to challenges than orders, so whatever works for you and gets me the most orgasms.”

  I laugh and skim her cheek with my knuckles. Porcelain smooth, warm, and perfect. “You’re pretty much the only one I’m willing to take orders from. You know that, right?”

  She runs her fingers through my hair. “You followed your coaches’ orders to keep it professional.”

  “Not because I wanted to but because I didn’t want them to think I wasn’t taking my rehab seriously, and I needed the time to heal.”

  “So you only follow orders when it benefits you. Is that what I’m hearing?”

  “Mmm. It’ll benefit you too.” I kiss along the edge of her jaw. “Don’t worry, bae, I won’t screw up all the progress we’ve made while I’m screwing orgasms out of you.”

  I wait for a reaction, and I’m not disappointed. Stevie snorts and jabs me in the side with one of her manicured fingernails. “Can you not be an asshole for a few minutes?”

  Based on how tight my face feels, I must be grinning like an idiot. I school my expression into something more serious and pull back again so I can look at her. “Flipping my asshole switch off, but only for you, and only for an hour.”

  She arches a brow. “You think you’re going to last for an hour?”

  “I’ve spent more than a month thinking about all the things I want to do to you. I plan on dragging this out for hours.” I kiss her again before she can issue another snappy comeback, and our conversation tu
rns into the liquid sound of tongues stroking against each other. I can’t get enough of her mouth or the feel of her pliant body under mine.

  We fumble and tug at each other’s clothes, separating our mouths long enough to get my shirt off and Stevie’s dress over her head. She’s braless, which I probably should have expected, since it was backless. The last time I saw her topless was the morning after she woke me up with all that racket. I didn’t have the time or the wherewithal to fully appreciate what I was seeing then.

  I cup her breasts, so full and perky and perfect, with her sweet pink nipples peaking in the cool air. I circle them with my thumbs and push them together, nuzzling into the valley on a groan.

  “So fucking luscious.” I bite the swell, kissing one and then the other, savoring the salty, sweet taste of her skin, before I take a nipple between my lips and suck the tender skin.

  Stevie gasps and arches, fingers sliding into my hair and latching on. I trace the pert nipple with my tongue and scrape along the tip with my teeth, smiling against her tit when she issues a low warning and her fingernails dig into my scalp.

  “It’s payback time, bae.”

  “Payback for what?” she asks breathlessly.

  “For tormenting me for weeks with sports bras and tiny shorts. I had blue balls for a month.”

  “How is that my fault? And you started it with the boxer briefs that hide nothing!”

  “At least you could get yourself off after a session if you wanted.” I suck the other nipple roughly, biting hard enough to make her gasp.

  “So you’re going to punish my nipples because I could make myself come and you couldn’t?” Stevie’s eyes are on my mouth, close to her nipple but not quite touching.

  “Is that what you did? Make yourself come after I went home?”

  Her gaze flips up to mine, and her tongue peeks out as she nods.

  “How often?” The words are rough like sandpaper. I want this to be the same on both sides, for her to have struggled the same way I have all these weeks, fighting the same attraction.

  “Pretty much every night.” Her admission is steeped in vulnerability.

  “What’d you think about when you were getting yourself off?” I roll her nipple between my fingertips.

  She’s silent for a few seconds, long enough that I drag my gaze back to hers. Her cheeks are flushed pink, but her tone is full-on sarcasm. “Grocery shopping.”

  “Oh yeah? What were you shopping for while you were finger fucking yourself?”

  “Dick-shaped items, obviously.”

  “Obviously.” I tongue her nipple, swirling around it in slow, lulling sweeps. Just as she starts to soften under me, I suck hard, and she groans my name. “God, I love the way that sounds.” I move to the other nipple. “You know what I’m going to love hearing even more?”

  Stevie runs her fingers through my hair. “What’s that?”

  “You begging me to make you come.”

  She huffs a laugh. “Not likely.”

  “Mmm. You wanna place bets?” I smile when she tugs roughly on my hair.

  “I thought you were turning off your asshole switch for an hour.” I think she’s supposed to sound annoyed, but instead she’s breathless.

  “You flip one switch off, and you have to flip another one on to compensate.”

  “What’s this switch called?” She drags her nails along the back of my skull, causing a shot of icy heat to run down my spine.

  “Dunno. Whatever the level above asshole is.” I settle between her legs, and we make out, me rubbing myself on her while she shifts under me, both of us seeking friction, neither one of us willing to bow to the other.

  Stevie manages to wiggle her fingers down the back of my pants, nails biting into my ass, knees pressed against my ribs. My brain feels like it’s fritzing out from all the contact, which is crazy, because she’s been touching me for more than a month and I’ve been able to handle it fine, until now.

  Her hand is on the move again, and suddenly her warm fingers graze my cock through my boxers.

  I groan into her mouth and thrust, trying to get more contact. The weeks of pent-up tension, along with the injury that’s prevented me from being able to jerk off like a normal athlete would, means the brief contact already has me more fired up than if I’d watched a six-hour porn marathon on ecstasy.

  I tear my mouth from Stevie’s and push up on my forearms, trapping her hand in my pants. I pin her with a glare. It doesn’t have quite the impact I anticipate.

  Stevie smirks. “Should I assume you fucked your hand before you came to stake your claim on me tonight?”

  I quirk a brow. “Listen to that dirty mouth.”

  Her grin widens. “Is that a yes?”

  “What do you think?” Of course I managed my situation. I’m not an idiot. However, based on my current physical responses, I’m not sure my preemptive measures are going to make much of a difference.

  Stevie tilts her hips down, providing wiggle room for her fingers, which slide farther into my pants. She bites the edge of my jaw. “Do you know what I think?”

  “What’s that?” I lift my hips so she has more room to explore.

  “That no matter how well prepared you think you are, you’re still going to lose control a lot faster than you want.” My cock jerks as her fingers glide along my shaft over my boxers. “You know what I want?”

  “What’s that?” I can barely function already.

  “Before you fuck my pussy, I want you to fuck my hand.” She grips my erection in her warm palm. “And my mouth.”

  “Christ, Stevie.” I’m not going to argue. It’s probably a good idea to take the edge off; that way I can spend all the time in the world making her come for me before I get inside her. I slide a hand under her and roll onto my back so she’s straddling my thighs.

  I take a moment to appreciate how gorgeous she is: long hair cascading over her shoulders in waves, the end of one pale-purple tendril curling to frame her nipple. All that’s left are her panties, and they happen to match her hair. Stevie makes quick work of ridding me of my pants.

  She doesn’t take my boxers off yet, and I know the torment I was promising her is coming my way. Which is fine, because what she plans to dish out now, I’ll give back to her twice as good.

  Stevie skims the contour of my erection through my boxers with her thumbs, and my cock jerks with the muted contact.

  She smirks. “Somebody’s excited.”

  She places a palm in the center of my chest and leans down, hair falling forward to tickle my skin, nipples dragging across my chest, mouth hovering over mine. “I’m gonna make you come now.” She sucks my bottom lip and slips her hand inside my boxers, warm palm wrapping around me, skin to skin.

  She pushes back up so she can rub her satin-covered sex along my shaft. We make a mutual sound of tortured appreciation. On the next stroke forward, she slides my cock under the crotch of her panties so I’m suddenly dragging over slick bare skin.

  “Ah hell, Stevie.” My eyes roll up and my erection kicks in her fist as the head glides past her clit.

  “Do you like the way that feels?”

  I grip her thighs, trying to hold on to my shredded control. “Pretty sure you already know the answer to that question.”

  “Mmm, I like the way it feels too.” She rolls her hips, a sly, slightly evil smile tipping up the corner of her mouth. “Don’t come yet if you want my mouth on you.”

  For once I keep my mouth shut, aware she’s tormenting me on purpose, and any asshole snark I dish out is going to be met with more of this slow torture. So instead I enjoy the view as Stevie shifts to kneel between my thighs, naked apart from her pretty panties, which I’m likely going to destroy when I finally get my hands on her the way I want to.

  Finally, fucking finally, she wraps one hand around my shaft and cups my balls with the other—God bless her for being a multitasker—and bows forward. Her eyes are on me as her tongue peeks out and she drags her wet bottom lip from
the base of my shaft to the ridge. She places a barely there kiss at the tip.

  Her hair fans out, soft lavender waves cascading over my thighs. She places open-mouth, wet kisses along my shaft. I shudder when she tongues the ridge and groan when the head disappears between her lips. She takes me in a few inches, then pops off, the cool air a shocking contrast to her warm, wet mouth.

  “Bishop?” Her voice is like smoke.

  I grunt a response, because I’m not sure I’m capable of speaking right now.

  “I need your help.” She abandons my balls so she can pull her hair over one shoulder. “Can you hold this for me so it’s not in the way?” She spins her hair around her wrist. “Please?”

  I manage words this time. “Anything for you, bae.”

  She grins against the head of my erection, and I reach out, unsteady with my excitement as I slide my fingers into her hair and gather it up, twisting it around my own wrist. Once it’s out of the way, she takes me back into her mouth.

  She only strokes once or twice before she pops off again, tongue sweeping along the ridge, sucking the head and really, just generally teasing the fuck out of me. “Why don’t you show me what you like, Shippy?”

  I cock a brow, and she grins. This time when she takes me in her mouth, I guide her strokes, lifting my hips, pushing deeper, moving her faster. Her hands splay out on my thighs, bracing her weight so I can control how she moves, which is really more than I can handle.

  I warn her when I’m about to come, which takes a lot less time than I would like it to. I loosen my hold on her hair when my hips involuntarily jerk. I feel her throat constrict, my whole body tightening up, fingers flexing again as I come with brutal intensity.

  As soon as I regain control of my body, I pull her off my cock, grab her by the waist, and flip her over onto her back. I capture her wet, swollen lips, and despite the fact that her mouth tastes like my cock and my orgasm, I sweep inside. She tries to wrap her legs around my waist and rub up on me again, but I shift so my legs are bracketing hers and drop my ass on her thighs, keeping them tight together and preventing any hope she had of friction. “Oh no you don’t. It’s my turn, and I have weeks of torture to make up for.”