by Marata Eros
Just not today.
Worn running pants finish off my couldn’t-give-a-shit-less ensemble. It’s August, so there’s no reason to wear a lot of clothing anyway.
Clenching my eyes shut, I grip the rim of the pedestal sink and contemplate shit. Think some more.
Fuck it, as Noose would say.
I need to see her.
Maybe I can just knuckle under and do something nice for once.
I remember the coffee Temp likes—unforgettable. I’ll begin there.
With a plan in hand, I trot down the staircase, enjoying the squeaks in the old place because in my former-cop’s mind, they represent extra security. I poke my head around the corner from the base of the stairs, catching sight of Perry sawing logs off, one at a noisy time.
I grin. He’s out for the count.
I want to teleport to Kendra’s place. But of course, that makes the coffee impossible. Jerking my truck keys off the hook at the back door, I jog down the stairs.
I hit the Dodge running and punch the unlock symbol on the fob. The lights pulse on then off as I yank the driver’s-side door handle up.
Hopping in, I turn on the engine and kick the AC on right away. Technically, it might be summer, but in the Pacific Northwest, summer really means it’s not hot yet. I run hot, though. So AC is a must from Memorial Day through Labor Day.
Turning on the tunes, I blast AC/DC through the truck’s cab. A minute later, I roll up to the Starbucks take-out sign and holler the order at the speaker box. Then I pull forward, Slide a twenty across the shallow counter. I palm the change, tossing it in my unused ashtray and grabbing the tray from the girl at the window, jet off.
The drive to Kendra’s apartment complex only takes about ten minutes, and in the parking lot, I let the engine run for a second. I take in the tired VW rabbit, which is sitting in the same slot as last night. My eyes move to the spot where I mowed into the fucker that thought he had any right to touch Temp. To hurt her.
No man will touch her ever again.
Except me. And not violently.
My gaze shifts to the second-story window, and I think maybe Temp doesn’t want to see me again.
I chuckle. Kendra definitely doesn’t.
The coffees begin to cool as I mull shit over. That’s my main problem—I overthink shit.
Gripping the door handle and kicking open the driver’s-side door on my pickup takes more bravery than is pretty. I move my ass out then methodically lock the door before carrying the tray of coffees up the seven or so concrete steps to the second-floor landing.
The door’s not latched.
My heart rate picks up. Fuck.
I push the door all the way to the wall, training kicking in.
My senses cruise the room—eyes, ears, gut feelings. All of it. Everything feels in order, and my shoulder’s ease.
Turning, I softly shut the door behind me and turn the bolt.
Seeing no one stirring, I stride to the bedroom, knowing full well that I’m taking a big fucking chance. The girls are probably both sleeping, and I’m just begging to piss them off, ruin my chances with Temp, and come off like a primo whack job.
That would halt a regular guy in their tracks. But I have nothing to lose.
In my whole life, I’ve never been more surprised with the vision that fills my eyes.
Kendra isn’t in the bed.
Just Temp, a slender forearm flung over her good eye.
Acres of freckle-free creamy skin are on display.
But my eyes don’t get any farther than her tits.
They’re magnificent. Her breasts aren’t large, but they’re perfectly formed and upright, softly falling to the sides of her body.
I get an instant hard-on, and that’s not something I can help. Just the way an honest-to-God male is hardwired. And the fact that I had to jerk off twice in the shower, didn’t seem to take any edge off my lust.
I suck in a breath, hardly aware of anything but her form in front of me.
I don’t think I made a noise, but Temp sits straight up in bed, the sheets settling on her lap. The partial nudity reveals a sweet divot and rounded curves where her hips flare from a small waist.
We stare at each other. The heat between us is touchable. Breathable.
I set the tray on a dresser to the left without looking at anything but Temp.
She drags the sheet to her chin, and I finally capture her eyes. The one beautiful jewel-like eye gazes back at me.
My attention briefly flicks to a lacy bra hanging off a doorknob on the closet, and I almost laugh.
Until I read her face.
Everything I ever want to see on a women’s face is etched on hers.
Want.
Desire.
Willingness.
I can’t speak. But I do ask permission with my expression.
I want to bury my face in her pussy and make her come until she explodes into pieces. I don’t know if it’s possible to convey all that with a look, but I make an effort.
I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my life. My cock throbs with it, and my mouth salivates.
Then I see the answer. The yes on her face.
Palms dampening, I stride the couple yards to the edge of the bed, and Temp rises to her knees, revealing her perfection.
“Holy Christ,” I say, swallowing the image of her beauty in one gulp.
She’s tiny and perfect. Not so thin that every bone shows but nicely shaped. A small landing strip decorates the top of her slit, and I dream of diving in head first.
Her nipples are light pink. I sigh, licking my lips as I wrap her against me.
“Careful of my face,” she murmurs as her fragile body is tight in my arms.
Like I could ever forget.
Curling one arm around her ass, I haul Temp into my lap as I sit, seating her over my dick.
Devouring her neck with kisses, doing what I wanted to the first time I laid eyes on her,
I drag my mouth to hers. I tongue her like I want to eat her.
And I do.
Careful of her wrists, I guide her backward onto the bed, and after sweeping my eyes over her again, I tell her I’m going to go down on her.
There’s that yes face again.
I toss her slender legs over my shoulders, and instead of stabbing her deeply, I softly kiss her moist pussy right at the center.
A hiss of pleasure escapes from between her lips, and I lift my head, gazing into her good eye, acutely aware that permission has to be in play for me to move forward.
“More,” Temp whispers.
Thank God. I dig in hard then. I tongue her firm and fast, sucking on her bud as I slip a finger into her wet pussy. She’s super tight, which gives me pause for only a second before I begin a slow pump as I lave her sweet sex, never letting up.
Her breathing starts to pick up then hitch.
I know I’ll make her come when Temp’s entire body tenses underneath my thumbs, thighs quivering with her upcoming release.
Forcing her thighs wider with my shoulders, I maneuver a second finger to join the first as I flatten my tongue on her clit. Then I suck it between my lips. Hard.
Temp’s hips buck, and I stay attached, slowing my fingers to meet her peak as her pussy pulses around them, softening my rhythm as she descends from the top.
Painfully hard, my dick strains to get inside her.
Temp’s head rolls to the side, her chest heaving after the explosion.
I stare at her flushed face, thinking I could make her come again and again. Hell, I could do it all day long.
For the first time in months, I have the raging hard-on I’m known for.
Temp’s arms rise, and I nestle between her legs, seating my gigantic erection between them as she loops her limbs around me.
I gently hold her face still. Anger mixes with my desire as I see up close what’s been done to her.
Swallowing hard, praying she does, I ask, “You want this?”
I’m enteri
ng uncharted emotional waters with this girl. My question means more than screwing.
I know that, and I believe Temp does too.
Her eye searches my face, then she answers, “Yes.”
The tip of me enters the beginning of her, and it’s fucking molten, liquid heat.
I dip my head into the crook of her neck, smelling soap and, beneath that, her unique feminine smell.
“Oh my God,” I breathe against her temple.
“Same,” she says, her breath warm on my cheek. I turn the rest of the way and softly kiss her parted lips.
Rocking more deeply, I meet resistance. I lean my head back, searching her eyes.
“It’s been a long time.”
“Okay, I’ll be slow,” I say, meaning the words. She’s so damn tight, I don’t want to hurt her.
She arches into my forward motion, and I slide inside a bit farther. When the end of me reaches her, I have to utterly stop. My cock throbs once, ready to blow.
I have to do fucking breathing exercises and ruminate about mechanics to stop from coming right then. Her pussy holds my cock like a velvet vise, softly molding and squeezing my length.
“Temp,” I say, withdrawing slowly, only to stab deep into that sweet wetness again. The resistance is there, but the prep work I did makes her wet for my cock.
I press forward again. And again.
Temp meets my every thrust with her hips, and I rise on my knees with us connected, forcing myself to last longer so I can enjoy every inch of her.
Bringing her hips forward hard, I impale her deeply. “Can’t last... Can’t.”
She rests her hands on the tops of my thighs. Fingertips digging in, Temp pushes her hips down hard on me, and my eyelids drop to half-mast in a lust-filled haze. I seize the momentum of her hips, and stiffening almost painfully, I pour my cum deep within her.
The image of Temp is written on my brain forever: My hands cupping her hips as we’re tethered together so tightly, I can’t see where either of us begin or end. Her lips parted, frozen in ecstasy as her pussy pulses around the throb of my cum. A trick of the light causing her one uninjured eye to glow in the hazy morning illumination flowing through the gauzy curtain, rendering her iris to an aquamarine jewel.
When I’m finally spent, I carefully withdraw from her body and curl against her protectively. Like I’m home.
Like this was always where I was meant to be.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” Temp says, and I turn my head to her, carefully flattening her body beside me so her delicious tits are the thing closest to me.
And my mouth. I take one tip between my lips, and she groans halfheartedly. “Stop.”
“Nope,” I say noncommittally around her soft flesh.
“We just humped in my best friend’s bed,” she moans.
I lift my head from attending to the one nipple and instantly move to the next one.
“Puck,” Temp hisses.
I ignore her. Temp’s fragrant skin is soft like silk, pliant and warm.
Lifting my head a second time, I confess, “Right at the moment, I don’t give a shit.”
Temp laughs. “You’re terrible.”
I pull her close, brushing black strands away from her flushed face. “Then we’re terrible together.”
She shakes her head. “Not terrible. Beautiful.”
“I have something to say before Kendra comes back—”
Temp presses a finger to my lips.
“Get dressed, and I will too. Then we talk. Clearly, I had things wrong. I mean, really wrong.”
Now it’s my turn to silence her, kissing her gently. “Shhh,” I say, pecking and sipping at her mouth. “We got all kinds of time to talk. Right now, I think my body made pretty good conversation with yours.”
I feel a crooked smile seat itself on my face before I dive bomb her lips again.
“True,” she says around my kissing. “I’m not much for a one-night stand.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, since you were virgin tight. Had me worried there.”
A shadow crosses her face, and I note it. Later.
“You screw a lot of virgins?” she asks with a little bite to her voice.
Oops. “No. I mean, I did go to high school.” I press my finger to the to the uninjured side of her face. “You felt so great, Temp. I meant the comment as a compliment. Sorry it came out wrong.”
“Yeah,” she says softly, but her eyes skate from mine.
My guts do a slow turn at the sudden directional turn in the conversation.
I open my mouth to explore what the issue is, but someone bangs on the front door, which I conveniently latched.
“Ah—hello! I’ve been locked out of my own fucking house!”
We laugh, staggering out of the bed and throwing on our discarded clothes.
I’m first to the door and unlock then open it.
Temp’s at my elbow, her still-damp hair matted to her head on one side.
She clearly has the just-got-laid look.
Kendra’s eyes go wide, probably from seeing our dual expressions of post-coital bliss.
“I don’t even want to know,” she says, breezing past us. “But fair warning: if you two fucked in my bed, I’m going to be pissed.”
Total silence reigns for about three whole seconds, then Temp and I are holding our ribs, howling.
Of course, Temp has to stop her tear-filled laughter, because salt in wounds hurts like a bitch.
And she has so many.
Chapter 10
Temp
Kendra leaves us by the front door, and Puck looks down at me, his typically neutral expression full of questions I can’t answer. And won’t.
It’s enough that I allowed this thing between us. This shining, beautiful connection.
And right on the ass of the aftermath of abuse by two different men.
I’ve clearly lost my mind. After a deep breath, in a slightly shaky voice, I say, “Well, you have my number.”
We crack up.
When the laughter dies away, Puck crooks his finger underneath my chin and bends over, whispering beside my ear, “I’m so gonna call.”
He combs fingers through his hair and announces, “Those coffees are cold as fuck.”
I nod and cup my elbows. “But the effort...”
“Counts,” he murmurs then crushes me to him softly as to not hurt me, holding the back of my head. His lips beat a heated path across my own, down my jawline then my neck.
“Get a room.” Kendra says, walking up, “in fact, eff that. Ya already had one—mine.”
We break apart, and without even a glance at Kendra, he grabs my hand and tugs me after him, pulling the front door closed after us.
Pressing me against the door, he pushes his erection against my pelvis.
“God... are you ready again?”
His eyes are a deep, melting chocolate, cloyingly sweet wherever they touch me.
Everywhere.
He plants a palm on the door beside my head, with his free hand, uses his finger to trace the uninjured part of my jaw.
I lean into the caress.
“I haven’t even taken you on a date,” he says, a note of self-chastisement buried inside his deep voice.
What an odd thing to say. I look up at him curiously then shrug off his words. “Attraction got in the way.”
Puck shakes his head. “No. What you said was true, and what I said was a lie.”
I wait, holding my breath, thinking for sure that he’ll announce something horrible after I gave him something no one has ever had. Except once.
Without permission.
But Puck surprises me. “The attraction is so there, Temp. It was that first minute I saw you. But there’s something more, and I was too afraid to entertain the possibility.”
“The possibility?” I ask, slightly dazed and impossibly confused by the change in direction.
“The possibility of more.”
More what? I wonder.
&nbs
p; His finger taps the spot between my breasts before he thumbs his own chest. “More us. More of this.” His palm comes to rest on my chest, and his fingers widen, splaying against the thin T-shirt I wear.
My heartbeats crash together, stuttering inside me. I could crush him with my words, make him pay for the pain his earlier indecision caused me.
Instead, I leap.
Gripping Puck’s hand, I close his fingers, and bringing his hand to the spot on my face that’s not beaten, I turn my head to kiss the center of his palm.
His skin smells of us and the sex we had.
“Okay,” I say.
Puck dips his head and rests his chin gently against the top of mine. After a long moment, he steps back, slowing releasing my hand and turns, then jogs down the stairs.
I watch him leave until his black truck is a spot on the road.
Like a hole in my heart.
Kendra’s eyes are slitted, her arms folded, as I walk back inside. “Okay, I’m not going to ask you if you’re certifiable. But are you fucking insane, Temp?”
I flop back against Kendra’s couch and pop my feet on her scarred coffee table.
Certifiable? No. Insane? Maybe.
“After what happened?” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I mean, I’m all for you going on the dating train. But you should be dating, girl. Not doing... whatever the fuck happened here.” She swings a palm in the direction of her bedroom down the hall.
Fuming on my behalf, she paces the length of her small apartment.
“It’s not the same,” I admit quietly.
She halts, half turning to me. “Are you fucking kidding?”
I sigh, studying my hands, and notice I need a new fingernail polish color. Chipped black isn’t cutting it.
“I told you that my friend Naomi knows Rose, who says flat-out, this Puck dude is a major man-ho. He fucks anything with a vag.”
I wince. “Thanks for the visual, K.”
Her lip trembles. “You forget, I was fucking there, picking up the pieces of you, Temp.” Her hands fist at her sides.
I hold up a palm, not wanting to talk about that so soon after Puck and I had our... interlude. “Don’t go there, Kendra.”
Her face hardens. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be thrilled you just gave yourself to fucking Puck.”
