by Kizzie Hayes
“I’m not a scaredy-cat! I just don’t like horror. I thought it was going to be a cheesy B-rate movie that was too bad to be scary.” Snickering at the defense, Dylan turned his eyes back to the television but Sophia only continued to frown. Her focus slowly wandered to his warmth and how solid he was against her. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had such a good time with a guy. Most of her friends were taken and she didn’t really date. Tonight had been a grim reminder of how hollow her life was. Watching a scary movie was way out of her comfort zone but here she was watching it anyway.
*****
“Hey-” Redirecting her attention at the call, Sophia tilted her head but before she could so much as hum in acknowledgment Dylan’s lips were on hers. Stunned by the sudden turn of events, she tensed and stared at the parts of his face she could see without going cross eyed. His kiss was quick but firm, and it felt like it went on a lot longer than a mere second.
When he did pull away she just continued to stare before her mouth once again ran away from her.
“I- I thought it was just a date?” Stuttering, Sophia automatically licked her lips as nerves tickled her belly. It only made her aware of the taste of peppermint that wasn’t what her own toothpaste tasted like. So close to her, Dylan simply lifted one shoulder in a half shrug before opening his mouth.
“I just figured I’d try it. No pressure.” Sophia blinked slowly at Dylan’s sorry explanation as it flowed in one ear. He looked so calm and serious while she was having an inner breakdown. It made her a little angry that he’d kiss her and say ‘no pressure’ so nonchalantly. Unsure of how to respond, she kept silent. Even the quiet that surrounded them wasn’t heavy or burdened, though.
It was just there. No expectation. No weight of any kind.
“But you said you weren’t going to have sex tonight.”
“I said I didn’t plan on having sex with Jocelyn. We might’ve been going on a date but even online I felt like there wasn’t anything there.” Dylan could’ve winced at the way he said those words, but somehow he refrained. It was hard to remember that Sophia was Jocelyn’s cousin. The incident that brought them together only hours ago was hardly worth remembering. Frankly he’d had a much better night than he expected.
“Uh- okay… Are you going to put on that movie again if I say ‘no’?” Watching Dylan’s lips pull into a smirk, Sophia felt heat creep into her cheeks. Secretly she hoped he would say ‘yes’, but the rational part of her mind told her to call a cab. They only went on one date, and she wasn’t the kind of person to sleep with someone on the first date.
Then again, they’d had a great time together. Nothing indicated that a little extra fun would change anything for the worse.
“Do you want me to blackmail you with scary movies? ‘Cause I will even if it’s not tonight. I had a fun time with you, Sophia.” Sophia’s eyebrows bowed even more but if she were brutally honest with herself she had nothing better to do. Jocelyn was probably stewing at their apartment, so going home wasn’t a good idea. She also didn’t want to have to watch this zombie movie if there was a much more pleasurable alternative. Dylan was flirting with her in a teasing way, but she knew he was serious. If she didn’t want to she could say so and he’d drop it for now.
It was that exact reason she nodded hesitantly.
“Yeah. Let’s do it. But you have to come with me back home tomorrow so Jocelyn doesn’t kick my ass.” At the singular condition Dylan nodded firmly, and this time it was Sophia that initiated the kiss. Despite being rather chubby for her height, she was comfortable with her body. A lot of her extra weight was in her butt and breasts, anyway. Covering his mouth with her own, Sophia ignored the voice in her head that said this was a bad idea. In this day and age meeting someone she liked and that liked her didn’t happen often without internet intervention. It might not have been the typical dating website hook up, but she’d probably never date unless something bizarre happened.
Focusing on the kiss, Sophia found she quite liked how Dylan tasted. She liked the way his arm squeezed her from its position around her back while his free hand crept up to palm her cheek.
Only a few moments went by before Dylan pushed his tongue passed her lips, but Sophia didn’t really protest. Behind her green and blue stripped tank top her nipples were beginning to firm and her body temperature was rising. Her hands roamed aimlessly up his arms and over his shoulders. Kissing her deeply, his fingers began to trail down over her jaw and towards her collar bone. Excitement rushed in her veins and she inched closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“You’re a good kisser.” Mumbling, Sophia leaned forward until Dylan was settled against the back of the couch. Under her he huffed out a chuckle, and she smiled in reply even as he cupped the back of her head. Lifting her leg, she moved to straddle him and felt the heat spreading through her flare to life. Even though they were both wearing jeans her body was ready. She rolled her hips experimentally and liked the way his hands immediately gripped her love handles. Pushing down on her hips, and lifted his own and it made a small moan escape the seal of their mouths.
“You are too, Sophia.” Dylan fingered the hem of Sophia’s shirt as he complimented her, and it was only then that she pulled away. Her breath came in short, shallow pants and her face was hot. Then again he wasn’t fairing too much better as his own breath hitched when she unceremoniously pulled her shirt up and over her head.
“Holy shit.” Palming her breasts with both his hands, Dylan’s slur came out husky and Sophia felt feminine pride bloom inside her. Leaning down, she wrapped her own hands around his in encouragement, a smile cracking her swelling lips.
“I think that’s an oxymoron.” Dark eyes flashed up at her own, and her smile grew. Instead of offering a verbal reply his hands jerked her down. She only barely managed not to make some unattractive noise but it quickly flowed out anyway when he clamped his teeth on her nipple.
Closing her eyes with a moan, Sophia rolled her hips as her core began to burn. Dylan wasn’t too gentle with her, but she actually liked it. His rough treatment turned her on in a way it hadn’t before. Maybe it was because he wasn’t too harsh, but she didn’t know and wasn’t going to question it now. Sucking on her pert, rosy bud, he let out a groan of satisfaction. It didn’t take long for his fingers to roll and squeeze and pinch at her right nipple as well. Holding his wrists tightly, small gasps and almost noises fell from her mouth as her hips moved steadily to and fro.
“Jesus- shit… D- Dylan...” Sophia’s high pitched call was soft but Dylan still pulled away. Instead he attacked her neck and mouth, abandoning her breasts completely. His hands traveled lower as he nipped at her bottom lip for entry she freely gave. The fastenings on her jeans were no match, and her flushed skin quivered as his fingers slipped past her waistline.
“You’re so ready, baby.”
Somehow Sophia managed to wiggle out of her shoes, and Dylan’s fingers barely grazed her core before she stood up to work her way out of her jeans. Rushing through the slightly awkward transition, she glanced up to watch him kick off his own shoes and follow her lead. Standing naked over him, she felt powerful as he took off his t-shirt.
“Don’t space out on me now, Sophia.” Frowning at the jibe, Sophia saw the twinkle in Dylan’s eye before she shook her head.
“I don’t like being on top though.” Puffing up her top lip, she crossed her arms under her bust as he let out another huff of a laugh. She quite enjoyed being able to joke around during such an intimate act. Before her, he pushed himself to his feet before both of his hands once again landed on her hips.
“Well, can’t have you workin’ up a sweat, can we? People might think you’re exercising.” Turning until she was in front of the couch, Dylan bent Sophia at the waist as she struggled not the laugh at his joke. She just didn’t have time when he nudged her entrance with the tip of his cock. Until that moment she hadn’t really paid attention to it because she was too distracted by other, less imp
ortant things. Now that seemed like a mistake even as she spread her legs a bit wider and held the fabric of the couch.
Sophia sucked in air through her teeth as Dylan entered her. It was a slow process, but it still stung. Clenching the couch cushion tightly, she squeezed her eyes closed. A lightness filled her skull, and she almost didn’t hear his strong curses from behind her. His own hands held her waist firmly and occasionally his fingernails scraped her skin.
“Fuck- fuck…” Holding her breath, Sophia groaned softly as Dylan just as slowly pulled out of her channel. She had to force herself not to cum and the effort was wreaking havoc on her. Beneath her, her arms and legs began to tremble.
“Shit-” Dylan thrust back into her and Sophia let out a squeak. She could feel the ridges of his cock as the length caressed her channel. Her velvet walls shuddered and closed in around him, burning with anticipation.
“Sophia… God, I’m gonna make you cum so fucking hard.” Pushing up her backside at the growling tone, Sophia let out another soft cry as Dylan set a steady, hard pace. Already her orgasm was boring down on her, but she didn’t want to lose it yet. Savoring the feeling of him entering and exiting her, she closed her eyes just before his palms slid up her back to wrap around her shoulders.
“Don’t cum until I say so...” In and out; it was all Sophia could feel. Dylan’s words sounded like they were coming through a tunnel, and her skin felt too tight for her body. Grinding her teeth together at the rhythmic pounding against her ass, a strangled noise was all that would escape her throat. Sweat formed on her flesh, and her toes curled tightly against the carpet of unimportant color.
Only by the grace of God did Sophia manage to keep her orgasm from ripping her apart for what seemed like a long time. It was when Dylan tangled his hand in her short hair that she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Arching her back, her thighs struggled to come together and a loud moan tore from her chest. For a second even her heart stuttered and her muscles locked up. Inside her she could feel his length in extreme detail as her walls closed in around him. Her head felt like it was filled with air and in that moment everything was simply white.
It was a color she hated with a passion but in this instance it seemed fitting.
“Yes-s-s… cum on my cock, Sophia...” The tide of her orgasm hadn’t even died down in the least when Dylan picked up his pace. He nailed her harder, faster, and grunted with the effort of it. What was only supposed to be one mind blowing orgasm turned into two and Sophia felt her abdomen cramp from how tightly it was being twisted.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Crying out with each thrust, Sophia felt the world around her snap into place. Her lungs begged for oxygen while her body begged for more. Behind her Dylan shoved himself in her with a rough snap of his hips again and again. With every slap that sounded his grip on her shoulders tightened.
“Fuck- I gotta cum-”
“Don’t! Don’t-t cum in- ins- inside me-e… ah-h-h.” Against her own ears Sophia’s demand didn’t sound very legible, but Dylan must’ve understood because he suddenly pulled out of her completely. It took a fraction of a second to feel the hot ropes of his seed spurting onto her back. Panting heavily, she let her knees come together before shakily half-falling to the floor. Next to her he soon followed, using what she assumed was his t-shirt to wipe her off before pulling her into his lap.
“Wow...” Mumbling, Sophia rested her head on Dylan’s shoulder to wait for her body to calm down and her mind to stop spinning. Against her ear his heart pounded an erratic tattoo in his chest that mirrored hers. His fingers shook against her thighs in a way that mirrored her own. His chest heaved just like hers did.
“Do you want to do this again next weekend? We can watch a chick flick instead.” Dylan only spoke up after his breathing had returned to normal, and Sophia nodded instantly without much thought.
“Yeah. I do.”
THE END
Another bonus story is on the next page.
Bonus Story 31 of 44
Hearts of Dust
Her husband was buried beneath a pile of dust and rocks, and it was, by far, the most sensible thing that he had ever done. Lord William Tavers had, until very recently, been in possession of an adventurous spirit, one that he had often imposed upon his wife. His latest imposition had been to sell their very fine estate, and their Charleston townhome, pack their every belonging, and send it out west.
“West,” he had said, his eyes filled with that peculiar light he got, “was where life was really worth living. There are no comforts to soften the blow!”
Personally, Genevieve thought that life was worth living because of the comforts, not in spite of them.
“Miss?” the stagecoach driver asked, pulling her out of her reverie. His hands clutched his dirty and tattered hat, clearly not wishing to be an imposition to a mourning widow. The entirety of him was covered in several days’ worth of dust and grime. She had no right to cast stones, her own clothing had a persistent layer of dust and she had not had a bath in several days. “
We need to be off if we want to make Silver Creek before nightfall,” he explained.
“Are you familiar with this place?”
“Oh, I am, my cousin lives there, runs a fine hotel, if you are interested.”
“Quite.” She pulled her mourning veil over her face. “A good meal and a bed will go a long way towards mending my heart.”
The words were correct, but there was no real feeling behind them. She wanted to be bothered by the fact that she felt nothing for the man who had been her husband for many years, but she couldn't quite bring herself to it. Instead she turned herself to more necessary matters. “Is there a man of the law in Silver Creek?”
“A man of the law?”
“A sheriff, a lawyer? A marshal perhaps? Anything of the sort? I will need to inform someone of my husband's death for legal reasons.” Such as freeing up the funds that he had gotten when her life had been well and thoroughly uprooted.
“The county shares a marshal with some of the other towns, I can't say as he will be there. He gets called from one place to the next pretty often, but you can always send a post to summon him back. Or whatever you'd like.”
“Yes, of course.”
The coach driver nodded and helped her into the carriage. God, she detested these four walls. It didn't matter that they were elegantly decorated with fine wooden inlays. She detested everything about it.
A feeling that was perpetuated by the jostling of the stagecoach as it continued on towards Colorado. The loud clatter of the wooden wheels across the dusty ill-prepared earth echoed in her head, turning the ever growing headache into a savage pulse behind her blue-gray eyes. They were hardly her best feature, no that was certainly her hair, a crowning glory of honey-wheat, a shade that, when brushed correctly, could be luminescent gold. Though it was several decent baths past looking anything like gold right now.
That was not her most pressing problem. Genevieve longed for the days when the condition of her hair had been her greatest concern. Her problem now, was the fact that she was going to Colorado, wild and unsettled, with no husband, no home and no income to speak of.
What was she going to do?
“What are you going to do, Genevieve?” she asked to the four unrelenting walls.
She could, of course, turn back. She could go to Charleston or New Orleans or one of the other civilized cities, and see about using the funds that her husband had accumulated to setting up a home for herself.
As what? She thought to herself, her pale pink lips forming a line of frustration across her elegant face. As a young childless widow with her husband's debts?
It was just his adventurous spirit that lead him out West. No indeed, her husband had a love of many frivolous things, such as card games, wild women, and any newfangled creation he could purchase. When she had been sixteen and newly a woman she had found his liveliness and passion heartening. As she'd grown older, she had seen him for what he was, a child with the yea
rs of a man.
Her headache grew larger. She rubbed her fingers across her forehead. She had some wealth that she had ferreted away from her frivolous spouse, enough to pay for a few weeks at a decent hotel, longer at a cheap one. Then what?
There were a myriad of stories about women who thrived in the unsettled West. Women who were cattle herders and business owners. There was even Grace Jones, The Widow, a real honest to God lady bounty hunter. It was wonderful to read about from the comfortable distance of a book, the reality of it was overwhelming. She was a woman of means, her entire life had been geared towards being a wife of a fine house and to raise children.
She huffed, realizing that she had failed on both of those fronts. She had no home and no children.
Tears, not of mourning but of self-pity, welled in the corners of her eyes. They were gathering there when the coach took a sudden hard left. She slid across the bench of the seat, her shoulder hitting the velvet covered wall hard enough that she knew there would be a bruise on her otherwise pale skin.
“Sir?” she called to the coach driver.
“Robbers!” he called out.
Her heart started to race. Stagecoach robbers, or raiders, whatever a person wanted to call them, made their dubious living raiding travelers of their wares, belongings and wealth. It was well known that women did not fare well in these situations.
Genevieve's mind quickened. There was a gun inside the coach, her husband had insisted on buying the thing. What had he called it? She couldn't remember the name of it. It didn't much matter now.
She heard shots and she reached across the span of the carriage to fumble for the box that her husband had kept the gun in. Her fingers shook as she opened the lid, feeling the surprising weight of the weapon in her hands. Genevieve struggled to remember how to load it. Her husband had been firm that she learned how to protect herself.
