by Alex Grayson
I stood and found my voice, “Good.” I nodded. It was only one word, but it was the only one I needed.
Raw, unadulterated lust sizzled through me and lifted the hair on my arms. My nipples peaked, and I made up my mind. I moved toward him, into his space, adding a seductive sway to my hips and murmured huskily, “I saw you at the grocery store the other day. Do you know what I did?”
I stopped inches from him and trailed a finger over the buttery leather of his vest. As if mesmerized, all he did was shake his head, never breaking our eye contact. Peeking up at him through my lashes, I tilted my head to the side, letting my heavy hair settle over my shoulder. With what I hoped was a sexy laugh, I said, “Well, at first, I tried to follow you and failed. Miserably. But when I got home and after a pout, I climbed in the shower, soaped myself up and got myself off, imagining it was you the whole time.”
His jaw ticked, but he didn’t move or speak. I wasn’t even really sure that he was breathing. I lowered my eyes and started to step back when he reached down and tipped my jaw back up to meet his eyes once more. “This is fucked up. This isn’t normal.”
“Who gets to say what’s normal for us, baby?” I asked pointedly.
His baby blues held me captive for several long moments before he shook it off and yanked me into him. I lost my balance and stumbled but didn’t have the opportunity to so much as gasp before he surged to his feet and planted his mouth on mine.
Fire.
Heat.
A complete loss of control.
I teetered on my heels once before his hand moved to my ass, his fingers digging into the material of the skirt covering it. He dug in, and I moaned and leaned further into him.
In response, his other hand found its way to my other cheek, and he squeezed while boosting me up. My skirt bunched between us awkwardly, but there was no stopping now.
He turned and stalked out of the room. I didn’t know or care where we were going. I needed him, and that was all that mattered. He yanked his mouth from mine and dropped me on the bed with a bounce. I expected him to land on top of me and was shocked and annoyed when he stepped back and ran a hand through his hair.
“This is crazy.”
I snorted ironically.
It wasn’t funny, but then again, it was. His lips perked up slightly, and he moved to sit in the chair against the wall. Elbows resting on his knees, he steepled his fingers, pointers to his lips, and watched me.
I waited for him to speak because I couldn’t find any words. This was crazy. I didn’t even know his name. Deciding that this was something I should know before he fucked me five ways to Sunday, I asked stupidly, “So, I’m Chloe. What’s your name?”
His face shifted to shock, “You don’t know?”
Uh oh. I felt like I was about to get into trouble here, so I asked, “Do you know my name?”
I was realizing that he couldn’t process things without moving around when he stood up abruptly and started to pace while ranting, “Do I know your name? Do I know your name? Really? Yes, Chloe Rae Miller, I know your name. I know you’re a Gemini, oldest girl of three, your parents are still happily married and recently moved out of your childhood home, and you have close to twenty grand in the bank, with a 750 credit score.” He turned on me, bellowing, “What the fuck were you doing following me when you didn’t know anything about me?”
I got a little defensive, and sitting up, I shouted back, “Well, I kept seeing you, and I wanted to know more. I didn’t exactly think it through. I saw you and then complied when my vagina gave me the bat-signal.”
He sputtered, “You-you-” He cut himself off and sucked in air before asking calmly, “You do this a lot?”
I wanted to lash out, but it was a fair question. I worked to level my tone and replied, “Honestly, I’ve never done this before in my life. I do get a little obsessive in my relationships. Still, there’s always been a relationship before that stage in the past. But I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, and I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can’t ignore it.” I thought about it for a minute, and I had to know, “When did you see me for the first time?”
He smiled then, and it was the kind of smile that lit up the dark and made you want to return it, “You came in the tattoo shop as I was walking in. I turned on my heel and followed you back out. Followed you home, and I’ve been doin’ it since.”
I scooted to the side of the bed and lightly kicked my legs while asking, “Have you done this before?”
It came out in a small voice. I knew that if he said yes, a small part of my heart would break. I wanted, badly, for this to be something out of the norm for him as well.
He snorted, “Not a fuckin’ chance. Can’t explain it. Saw you and had to know everything. Told myself that I’d find something bad, and I’d be able to forget this shit, but so far, no dice.”
I hesitated then went for it, “It’s almost like it’s meant to be. I mean, at least, that’s what it feels like to me.”
He nodded thoughtfully and then moved to me. Gently he asked, “How about I take you out for dinner, and we spend a little time getting to know one another. We’ll figure all of this out, babe.”
The desperate heat had waned enough that I could think clearly, so I smiled and gave him my hand.
4
I sat across from him and fidgeted in my seat. It was the way his eyes seemed to set fire to wherever they touched. The smirk glued to his lips added to the heat, and when he trailed a fingertip along the top of my hand, I almost moaned.
Thankfully, he paid the bill quickly, and I slid into the passenger seat of my car. He drove with one hand on the wheel and the other gripping mine. We were acting as if we’d been together for some time and not like we’d literally just met hours before. For about the billionth time, I fought the urge to pinch myself. He took the twisting roads out of town before breaking the silence, “I’m thinking we’re going to work out just fine. Dinner went great, I’ve been in your space, and you’ve been in mine, so here’s the deal. Stay the night. I’ll stay with you tomorrow. We’ll play it out.”
I grinned happily. That sounded like the best idea ever. “Ok.”
When we got back to his house, I kicked off my shoes and wandered around the house while he grabbed us drinks. Setting the bottles down on the coffee table, he moved towards me on sock-clad feet.
I was looking at the photos that lined his walls. Some had to be from his childhood, a couple and a little boy beamed at the camera, another of the boy and his mother, noses touching and a crinkled grin on both their lips. Others were more current. One of him with his arms tossed over the shoulders of two men wearing the same vests, another of him holding up both middle fingers and sticking his tongue out. I moved down a step and saw one that stopped me in my tracks. It was the same couple as before, only older now standing on either side of him. It couldn’t have been taken very long ago. They were laughing, all three were holding a beer.
Smiling, I took the photo down from the mantle and turned as he reached me and settled his hands to my hips. “Felix, tell me about your folks.”
He nuzzled his face into my hair and murmured, “What do you wanna know? My parents are the coolest old people you’ll ever meet.”
“Hey!” I told him excitedly, “Mine are, too.”
Pulling back, he smiled down at me, “Sweet. When we get them together, it should work out great.”
He’d given me his name at dinner, and I now knew that he worked at a tech start-up but not much else. Not that it mattered. I was obsessed with him and quickly getting addicted. He could mop floors for a living, and I’d still be so turned on that it hurt to breathe.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and touched his lips to mine, then took the picture frame from my hands and put it back before leading the way to the bedroom.
My stomach fluttered, and I turned on my heel and danced after him.
When we crossed into his room, he turned and kicked the door shut before rushin
g me to the bed.
He tossed me on the mattress once more, but this time, he followed me down and covered my body with his.
My entire being quivered in response, and heat pooled between my legs.
He pulled my arms up over my head and pinned them down, leaning in to nip at my neck. I wrapped my ankles around his waist and bucked my hips, trying to make connection as I ignited with his touch.
He met my mouth and rocked his hips into me, and I could feel him everywhere.
I burned at his touch.
Loosening the grip of my legs, I yanked at his hold on my wrists, and when he released me, I desperately clawed at his shirt, needing to tear it off right that second.
He chuckled and released me to reach behind him and grip the back of his shirt to pull it over his head in one smooth motion.
My mouth went dry as I watched.
I’d never seen a guy do that, so I had no way of knowing that it would affect me in such a way. As soon as the shirt was gone, my hands went to his back and shoved down his pants so I could grasp his ass, applying pressure as I tried to line myself up with him for maximum friction when our pelvises touched.
The dark laugh sounded again before he spoke, his voice rough with need, “Baby, if you don’t ease up with those claws, I’m not going to last long enough to bury my dick in you. Do I need to cuff you?”
My nipples peaked, and my mouth went dry.
Cuff me?
The very idea sounded sexy and sinful in ways that heated my flesh from the top of my scalp to the bottom of my toes. I moaned and asked wickedly, “You wanna cuff me to your bed, baby? Am I being a bad girl?”
He groaned before knifing off of me and reaching to his nightstand. When he came back, he took hold of my wrists once more and yanked them to the headboard.
I almost climaxed when I heard the click as I was locked into place. I panted with my arousal and watched as Felix moved down my body and adjusted, so his denim-clad thighs straddled my waist. He grinned down at me wickedly before running his hands up my sides, shoving my shirt up as he went.
When he reached my bra, he pushed it up above my breasts and left it all bunched right under my armpits. His mouth latched onto my nipple, he nibbled, and I couldn’t stop the orgasm that ripped through me.
He pulled away and grinned down at me but spoke sternly, “You don’t come again until I say so. If you do, fucking hot as hell or not, I’m going to spank your ass, and you won’t get another orgasm for the rest of the night.”
I rubbed my legs together, enjoying the buzz of having just come.
He arched an eyebrow and asked, “You testin’ me, baby?”
My head jerked from side to side, and then finally, finally, he went back to the sweet torture of playing with my nipples.
I writhed underneath him, the sensual torture almost too much to cope with.
He shifted his hips and moved down, running his tongue lightly over my belly. When he reached my waistband, he nipped at the overly sensitive skin there before using his fingers to unbutton and unzip my pants.
He moved off of me and pulled my pants and panties down and over my feet. With an intense look on his face, he dropped them to the floor and wrapped his hands under my knees.
Before I could comprehend what he was doing, he yanked and dragged me down the bed, not stopping until my body would come down no further.
I moved to lift my torso because my hands were still cuffed, and the way I was stretched from headboard to bottom of the bed wasn’t comfortable in the least when he demanded, “Back down, Chlo. I’m about to test your resolve.”
That sounded scary, but I did as I was told, dropping my head to the mattress and twisting my hands, trying to find a way to hold my wrists that didn’t ache.
I didn’t expect it when he yanked my legs apart, moved into them, and buried his face in me.
He tongued and teethed at my clit, driving me to the brink of screaming with the burn of pleasure that I fought to hold back. I was near to blacking out with the intensity of it when he gave one last swipe of his tongue and lifted his head.
I should move, scoot back up the bed, even an inch or two was bound to help the discomfort of being stretched like I was strung up on a medieval torture device, but I was too far gone for that. The fire of desire coursed through me, and all I could do was writhe under his gaze.
During my daze, he must have dropped his own pants because when he climbed onto the bed and shoved his body between my legs, his cock bounced cheerfully between us, fully erect.
He bent into me and buried his face in my neck, growling there, “Watching you, it’s fucking magic. Shoots straight to my dick. All I can think about is burying myself so deep inside you that you feel me in the back of your throat, and I mean that both ways. Never had a woman ignite like this. Never had a woman burning for me, so consumed by it she doesn’t even care she can’t feel her fingers.”
It was then that I realized he’d shoved me up the bed some and it no longer hurt. He lifted his head and met my eyes, asking, “You want me to uncuff you?”
Oh, no.
Abso-fucking-lutely not. This was the hottest thing I’d ever done in my life.
I jerked my head from side to side and grunted out my demand, “Fuck. Me.”
His face darkened in a way I loved, and without debating it any further, he shifted just a bit and lined up with my entrance. Before I had a chance to breathe, he shoved in and filled me.
He rode me hard, fast, and rough. I knew before we were done that I’d feel him tomorrow. I could almost swear that I could feel those thrusts bottoming out in my throat.
I, of course, couldn’t, but that didn’t change the fact that I’d never been fucked so hard. Ever. It was amazing, incredible, life-altering, and when he growled, “Come for me, baby.” I couldn’t help but obey.
Seconds later, he followed me over the edge, and when he did, I almost came again when he found the tender part of my neck and bit, hard, with his release.
I’d have a mark the next day.
I was fucking ecstatic.
I dozed off before he pulled out. Fucking this man had been so shattering that as we panted to slow our heart rates, I fell asleep.
It didn’t last long, because when he pulled out of me, I mewed, and my eyes opened to find him reaching over me to turn a key and release my arms.
He rubbed where the cuffs had dug in and slowly the feeling returned. He asked softly, “You ok? Did I hurt you? Shit got pretty intense.”
I found I had the energy to muster up a grin and reply, barely, and informed him, “Better than ok. It only hurt in the best ways ever. And I’ll tell you something else, that was the best sex I’ve ever had so if you think we aren’t going to repeat that about a billion times before we both die of exhaustion, you have another thing coming, stud.”
His lips perked up in a grin, and he bent to brush his lips to mine before pulling all the way away and saying, “We didn’t use anything, baby, so I need to clean you up.”
And I let him.
I didn’t care about the repercussions.
I laid there while the man I’d fantasized about over and over again, proved he was worth every bit of the risk as he set about tenderly cleaning me up.
Later, as we laid together, my body half-covering his, he tugged my hair and pressed his lips to mine before smiling, “You know, I think this proves that you’re it for me.”
My entire being softened into him, and I smiled, “I have to agree.”
He stared into my eyes for the longest moment before pulling the cover-up to our shoulders and settling in for the night.
I didn’t care that we’d only really met hours before.
I knew.
He was the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
When he wrapped his arms around my waist and yanked me into his body before relaxing into me, I didn’t fight the shit-eating grin I knew had to be covering my face.
Because he was absolute
ly fucking perfect.
Six weeks later, he held my hand and said, “I do.” in the office of the Justice of the Peace.
It was quick, but for us, it was just right.
Our families were concerned at the suddenness of the progression of our relationship, but we both knew we were right where we were meant to be.
Eventually, they’d come to know it as well.
All the time we’d each spent thinking we were crazy didn’t matter.
Not anymore.
Obsession.
Stalking.
Explosive passion.
We had it all.
We knew it was only crazy if it was one-sided.
And for us, it was definitely not one-sided.
So, we embraced the obsession.
About Flora
Flora Burgos is a romance author from the great state of Texas.
After an unconventional childhood and tons of travel, she is now a 30-something that steps to her own beat (and might be a little crazy). She has the heart of a gypsy, the soul of a dreamer (metaphorically, not literally!) and a deep and abiding obsession with the underdog and the season of Fall.
She cusses like a sailor, is addicted to coffee and stormy weather, and loves her pitbull, hubby (of a bazillion years), and almost-teen son more than anything else in the world (even when they annoy her). She spends her free time, when not reading or writing, in the kitchen or hanging outside with her boys (and studiously avoiding the overflowing laundry basket that is inevitably waiting for her).
Visit her at www.floraburgos.com
Take Me
Cary Hart
When I want something, I go after it, and this time I want someone forbidden. Jake Morgan is my older brother’s best friend and my secret crush for the past five years. And I plan on making him mine.
