My So-Called Perfect Life

by K. A. Berg

  “Nope.” I pop the P as I reach for my bag in the back of his truck. “Remember . . . patience, Mr. Sexy.”

  He growls, “I love it when you call me that.”

  I smirk before opening the car door and getting out. “I know.”

  As we head up to Ryan’s place, I can feel the heat of his eyes as they stare at my ass. I can hear his brain working overtime, trying to figure out what awaits him.

  Nerves flutter in my stomach as we head inside Ryan’s apartment.

  “You wait here,” I tell him and make my way to the bathroom.

  I give it only ten minutes before he starts to get antsy and comes knocking, looking for answers.

  Dropping my bag on the counter, I open and start pulling out my outfit, laying it on the counter. Finding the most important part, I grab my pouch with my razor and shaving cream, needing to get that taken care of first. I take off my panties and spread the shaving cream where I need it before grabbing my razor.

  When I go to remove the plastic cover, I see my mistake.

  No! No, no, no!

  It’s the wrong razor. Somehow, I accidentally grabbed the older razor instead of the new one. I had them both on the counter, and I grabbed the gunked-up one instead of the brand-new one I pulled out from my cabinet.

  There is no way I can use this nasty old razor. It’s filled with hair and soap, and it has a bit of rust in the corner, thanks to my shower.

  Flinging open the doors to Ryan’s vanity, I find extra toilet paper, cleaning supplies, and some soap. Shit, this is the guest bathroom. He wouldn’t keep his razors in here. Does he even use razors, or does he use one of those electric shavers? I have no idea.

  I’m standing in Ryan’s bathroom, coochie covered in shaving cream, with no clue how to fix this. I glance down at my watch. I’ve already been in here for close to five minutes.

  Left with no other options, I grab one of the hand towels and wipe the shaving cream off, resigned to have to go through with this with my incomplete wax job.

  It’s fine, Danielle. I doubt he’ll even care.

  Sucking up the mishap in my plans, I pull on my big-girl panties—literally—and get a move on. The gray wool skirt hugs my hips, accentuating my curves. I slip my arms into the white button-up shirt that is purposely a size too small. After buttoning it up, just to the bust, I tuck it into the skirt and check myself in the mirror.

  My red bra is visible through the shirt, and the exposed lace gives it a nice touch.

  Flipping my head over, I gather my hair on top of my head and set on getting my bun done.

  I slip my feet back into my heels, fix up my lipstick, and add the final librarian piece: my glasses.

  Giving myself one more check in the mirror, I take a deep breath to try to calm the tsunami of anxiety and nerves wreaking havoc on my insides.

  Here goes nothing!

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ryan

  Danielle has been in the bathroom for close to ten minutes, and it’s been the longest ten minutes ever. The only thing I know about what she has planned is that it involves her and me and some bodily contact. Not that it particularly matters to me how that contact is achieved, but clearly, Danielle has something up her sleeve.

  Standing from the couch, I pace around the living room, waiting. I’m typically a patient man, but my imagination is running wild at the moment.

  The creak of the bathroom door opening fills the room with the intensity of a bomb exploding. A hundred percent of my attention is focused on the hallway as I wait for Danielle to emerge.

  My cock goes full mast the second she steps one of her long legs into the empty hallway.

  She looks like the most fuckable librarian I’ve ever seen.

  I don’t know where to look first. Every single part of her is a fantasy come to life. Her skirt draws my eyes up her legs to the curve of her hips. Her white shirt leaves nothing to the imagination, as her red bra shows through, and the top few buttons have no doubt been purposely left open. Her breasts are pushed up in an invitation to feast on them.

  Her glasses sit perched on the end of her nose, and her eyes dance with naughtiness as she bites her bright red bottom lip.

  “You’re so damn sexy,” I growl as I approach her.

  Her eyes twinkle, and she brings a finger to her lips. “Shh, Mr. Cohen. There’s no talking in the library.”

  My cock twitches, pressing harder against my zipper. “In case you aren’t aware, Miss Jacobs, I’m not big on following the rules.”

  She steps closer, her hips swaying in promise of naughty things to come. “You look like a bad boy, Mr. Cohen.”

  “Oh, I am,” I say as I put a hand on her hip and pull her luscious body against me. “So, so bad.”

  My hands wrap around the delicate skin of her neck. Then, I cup her jaw as I press my lips against hers, hard. Every fiber of my being is enthralled with this woman. Our chemistry is off the charts, and no matter how many times I have her, it’s never enough. I don’t know if there will ever be a point when I can get enough of her without consuming her.

  Her eyes flutter open as I pull away, her lipstick askew and her lips swollen from mine.

  “I want you so bad.”

  Her hand comes up, and her fingers glide across my cheek. “Then, take me.”

  “Oh, I’m going to own you.”

  She moans and rolls her head to the side, giving me her neck, which is her hot spot. She melts for me with just a few kisses on her silky skin. I press her against the wall and move my lips down her neck to her collarbone. The scent of vanilla fills my nose as I lick down her chest to her cleavage.

  My cock screams for attention, so I grind it on her hip, letting her feel my arousal for her. My heart hammers in my chest in anticipation as her breaths turn shallow.

  Pulling down the lace covering her breast, I lick a circle around her nipple before sucking it between my teeth, gently biting down.

  Her voice drips with need. “Ryan.”

  I shift my focus to her other breast, repeating the same motion, lavishing this nipple with just as much attention.

  Her small hand slips down between us, finding my swollen cock. She squeezes and then unzips my fly, maneuvering her hand inside. She grips me through my boxers before dropping to her knees between us.

  She looks up from her spot on the floor, and I could come just from the sight.

  “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

  Popping the button, she yanks down my jeans and then my boxers.

  Her skin is warm on my shaft as she pumps it. One, two, three times before slipping it between her red lips. Her tongue feels incredible as she glides up and down my length, making sure she flicks the barbell underneath the head.

  My balls draw up as the pleasure shoots through my cock, her tongue working me up and down in the perfect rhythm.

  “Danielle,” I practically growl.

  As she looks up at me, her lips almost at the base of my length, I have to control the urge to spill down her throat. She’s a minx. A vixen. A siren. She calls to the recesses of my soul.

  I pull my hips back and fill her mouth a few times before I jerk away. A second longer, and I would’ve come right there, unloading on her tongue.

  “Bedroom now, Miss Jacobs,” I command, pointing to my door.

  She scurries up, her tits still gloriously out and on display, and heads toward the door.

  Inside the bedroom, she stands next to the bed, her eyes filled with lust and her lipstick smeared from my cock.

  “Take it all off,” I order. “Slowly. Piece by piece.”

  My own personal librarian striptease.

  I work my own buttons as she removes her skirt first. The sight of her garters underneath sends all remaining blood in my body directly to my dick. The tip gleams with proof of my desire. This woman could bring me to my knees if I’m not careful.

  She smirks as if she can read my mind while undoing her own buttons. I toss my shirt to the floor at a
bout the same time she finishes with hers.

  This is a snapshot out of my best fantasies. The red is a stark contrast to her pale skin as she stands in nothing but lace. Her breasts still sit atop the cups of her bra, her nipples standing proudly, pointed right at me.

  She slips one bra strap down, and I toe off my shoes while pushing down my pants and boxers. Danielle drops the bra and slides off the small scrap of lace covering her pussy. There’s something going on with the weird design of her soft curls, but I’m more interested in the sweetness that hides underneath them.

  “Leave the rest.” I stop her from taking off the garters. “I want you just like that. Bend over the bed.”

  Behind her, I run my fingers through her pussy, feeling how much she wants me. “You’re so wet, Dani Girl.”

  She shakes under my touch. Kneeling, I waste no time in burying my face in her ass and lick up every drop of her arousal. Her taste on my tongue evokes my inner beast as I search for more, needing to consume her.

  Her legs begin to shake as her clit swells under my tongue. Using my thumbs, I spread her apart, slipping my tongue inside her as far as I can. She mewls, and I can feel her orgasm about to crest. Reaching around, I pinch her clit, and that’s all it takes for me to be rewarded.

  She comes hard, clamping down around my tongue, filling my mouth with her sweetness while her moans fuel my hunger.

  My cock throbs angrily between my legs. Standing, I reach into the nightstand for a condom while lightly stroking Danielle’s clit with my finger.

  She barely moves a muscle as I make quick work of putting on the condom. The need to be inside her has me seating myself to the hilt.

  “Oh God, Ryan,” she cries as I savor the moment, feeling her warmth feed the beast.

  My hips jerk back, only to thrust forward, over and over. Danielle’s arms give out, and her body drops to the mattress. Her fingers grip the sheets in pure ecstasy.

  Her moans are barely above a whisper as she tries to drag air into her lungs. “Yes, yes.”

  The tingle builds in my lower back, and the pleasure of Danielle’s sweet pussy clenching around me seizes my balls, taking hold of me as I rut into her.

  “Shit, Danielle,” I roar. “I can’t hold back.”

  “God, please don’t,” she eggs me on. “Fuck me, Ryan.”

  I love it when she talks dirty. My hips ram into her ass several more times before I drive into her and come so hard that everything else fades away. Faintly, I can hear Danielle’s cries as her orgasm keeps coming, her walls still holding tight to my length.

  My chest heaves as we both come down from our high.

  “I think I’m paralyzed.” Danielle breaks the silence. “I can’t feel my legs.”

  I laugh as I slip from her body and clean up.

  “You okay?” I ask, knowing I rode her pretty hard there at the end.

  She turns her head and looks at me, all while still standing, slumped over the bed. “Perfect. I just don’t know how you’re going to ever top that.”

  Christ, this woman is absolutely perfect.

  “I’ll think of something,” I reassure her.

  I scoop her up and lay her down on the bed. Hopping over her, I settle on the other side. She lies, stretched out on the bed, her naked form flush, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, gloriously on display.

  My attention is drawn down to her pussy, and as I run my finger through her soft hair, I can’t help but ask, “What happened here?”

  “Ugh, God,” she groans. “A painful life lesson.”

  I chuckle. “What lesson is that?”

  “That Brazilian waxing was invented by the devil.”

  Her voice is so serious, but all I can do is laugh. “You went to get waxed?”

  She nods. “Mercy and Amelia somehow convinced me that this idea included a wax. I think they’re both masochists because I don’t know how anyone does it. For a moment, I thought I’d died.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “Worst experience of my life,” she continues. “I almost took out the waxer with a head butt, and I’m pretty sure part of my vagina is still attached to the wax. I had to throw in the towel because I thought I was going to puke on her.”

  Flashbacks of her throwing up in my office, on me, fill my mind as my chest rumbles with laughter. “I know what it feels like to be on the receiving side of that.”

  She swats my chest. “I couldn’t shave for twenty-four hours, and I was going to take care of it here while I changed, but I grabbed the wrong razor from home and couldn’t. I figured, What the hell? Ryan won’t care.”

  She’s one hundred percent right.

  “I don’t. And for the record, if anyone gets to mess around between these thighs and make you scream, it’s me, and the screams are of pleasure.”

  She grins at me with mischief in her eyes. “Oh, don’t you worry; as soon as I get full feeling back in my legs, you’re going to do just that.”

  My hips ache just a bit as I hop off my bike in my parents’ driveway. I probably should have taken my truck, but I wanted to get in a long ride before the temperature starts to drop. But, three hours on the bike after spending the weekend pumping into Danielle wasn’t my best thought out plan. It was oh so worth it, though. Friday night was spectacular. Her dressed as a naughty librarian is what dreams are made of. We spent yesterday just hanging together at my place in between the sex.

  Damn, sex with Danielle is absolutely fantastic. No matter how many times we do it, it just gets better and better.

  It seems everything with her keeps getting better.

  The front door opens, and my mom stands waiting for me with a loving smile on her face. “Happy Birthday, my sweet boy.”

  “Hi. Mom,” I say wrapping her in a hug when I reach her. I kiss her cheek and head inside. “How is my favorite lady?”

  “I’m good, thanks,” my sister, Teresa, calls out as she meets me in the foyer. “Happy birthday, little brother.”

  My sister, with her short wild curly hair everywhere, wraps her arms around my midsection and hugs me tight. “Thanks, Teresa. But you’re my second favorite lady. Mom will always be number one.”

  Mom laughs behind me. “I’m going to hold you to that, Ryan. Especially now that you have a lady in your life.”

  “Lady?” Teresa says stepping back and looking up at me. “What lady? I didn’t hear anything about a lady.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I say looking back over my shoulder at her. She shrugs innocently before looping her arm in mine, guiding us to the kitchen.

  She looks over at Teresa as if I’m not even here. “Your brother brought a lady friend to the house over Labor Day weekend.”

  “Did he?” She looks over me to my mother. “How come I’m just hearing about this now?”

  They carry on, ignoring me. “I haven’t anything more to give you. But maybe your brother can fill us in.”

  I attempt to get out of having the tell them about Danielle. Not because I’m trying to hide her from them but simply because things between us are going so well but I don’t know what any of it means. “Bombarding a man on his birthday isn’t polite.”

  I’d thought about asking Danielle to come, but we haven’t discussed meeting the family. I mean, yes, I’ve met her sister, but Amelia is also Danielle’s best friend, so that doesn’t necessarily count. There’s no need to rush this stuff and mess with the vibe we have going, it’s working just fine. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. She hasn’t’ brought up getting more serious or putting labels on anything, either.

  Mom crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me with that mom look. “Hiding things from your mother isn’t very nice. I raised you better than that.”

  I shake my head and sigh. “I can’t even get dinner before you start in on me?”

  “Nope,” Teresa says. “And Mom made eggplant so you better start talking if you want some.”

  What the hell? “This is madness. Abusing the birthday boy
is not cool.”

  The two of them just stare at me and I have no choice but to acquiesce. “She’s a woman I’ve been seeing over the summer.”

  “Wow,” my sister whistles. “Over the summer? That’s a few months then. It’s pretty serious?”

  Jesus. These two are like a dog with a bone. “It just is. We like each other. We hang out. Things are good. No need for labels and stuff. Don’t go naming your unborn grandchildren, Mom.”

  She tries for nonchalant, but I can see the wheels turning in her head. “I’m not doing anything. When you’re ready to introduce me to your girlfriend, you will.”

  “I didn’t say she was my girlfriend, Mom.”

  Mom pulls the pan of eggplant from the oven and then turns back to me. “In my day, when you took a girl to your parents’ beach house, she was your girlfriend. But then again, in my day, a son wouldn’t do that without first introducing the girl to his parents, but—”

  “Leave him alone, Marlo,” my father says, coming in to back me up. “And Teresa, don’t hold a man’s food hostage. That’s one way to ensure you’re single forever.”

  He tosses me a wink, but all I can think about is my mother’s words.

  Girlfriend?

  Is she my girlfriend? Does she think of herself as my girlfriend? I haven’t really thought about it. I’ve just been enjoying the time with her. She just got out of a serious relationship. I wasn’t even looking for one. Why complicate things with labels?

  “Ignore the hens, Ryan,” Dad says clapping me on the shoulder and shaking me from my wayward thoughts. “Don’t let them in your head.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Ryan

  Danielle’s school seems pretty much cleared out as I arrive. I check my watch and see that I’m right on time. Danielle said she would be done with back-to-school night at about nine, and it’s ten of. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I guess I thought more people would be here.

  This last month has been rough on the two of us getting time together. Danielle’s been swamped with schoolwork, and my attention has been fixed on putting together a business plan for the second location. It hasn’t left much time for us to see each other, but when we have, it’s been great.