by Harper Sloan
"Wren. She was seven months pregnant. Seven," I stress.
"And?"
"And I had been gone for three days shy of a full year."
I watch as comprehension dawns, the math adding up.
"That fucking bitch!"
"Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Turned out, since the day I left for my first deployment, she had been fucking around on me. For three years, I thought we were building our future, but she was only playing games. When I was home, she was still fucking around, just more careful. However, she didn't plan to get knock up. I lost everything that day."
"You loved her." Wren's voice is quiet, nonjudgmental, and accepting.
"I thought I did. I know now that I didn't. She might have hurt me, but I think it hurt more because of how much I had lost in one giant kick. Tracy was gone, and I had just found out the woman I was supposed to marry hadn't ever been faithful to me--lying our whole four years together. I felt so betrayed by everyone. It wasn't a good time for me, and I'll admit Jessica is a big reason why I spent the last decade refusing to let another woman get close. It wasn't until Cohen that I even let a friend get close. I was convinced, in my mind, that everyone I let near me would either betray me or be taken from me."
"And now?"
"I now know I can't control fate. I have some great friends back home, but even with them, I've held back a lot of me because of that fear. It didn't help that I held on to what happened to Dani as an excuse to keep that distance too. When I go back home, I'll make sure those friends know how much I appreciate them in my life. And, as for you, I've known you less than two full weeks, Wren. In that time, you've become an obsessive need my body craves to be near. I take you once, and I know a lifetime probably wouldn't be enough to quench the thirst I have for more. And I know I'll do whatever it takes to ensure that you aren't taken from me. I guess I can look back at my time with that bitch and be thankful that she did me a favor. Her being a massive slut means I didn't make the biggest mistake of my life."
"You know I would never do that to you, right?"
"Yeah, Wren, I do."
"Do you really? My whole life is in the spotlight, and the media loves nothing more than creating drama with their lies. You have to know I would never cheat on you, regardless of whatever they might print in the future."
I toss my head back and laugh, the heaviness pushing out of the room. "Babe, you almost went ape shit when you thought I was engaged and cheating with you. I think it's pretty clear where you stand on cheating. As for the media, they already have us married and expecting, Wren. I think I have a good idea about how crazy their lies can be."
"Are you saying that you're not really my not husband?" She gasps, a small smile on her lips.
"For now."
Her eyes widen, but I don't elaborate. Instead, I take advantage of our position and give us both some of the addiction we're hooked on.
Each other.
My toes curl at the same time my back snaps up, arching off the bed. I shake my head from side to side, a low whine escaping my lips. Unclenching the sheets that I have fisted in my hands, I move them with a slight tremble to the silky hair on Chance's head. My chest heaves as I drag my fingernails across his scalp before taking a firm hold of his thick hair. Lifting my hips off the mattress, I force him closer to my soaking wet pussy.
He makes a throaty sound of pleasure when I start to grind myself against his open mouth. His wetness mixes with my own, making slick sounds echo around us.
"I need more." I gasp, so close but wanting more than his wicked mouth and talented hands.
"You want my cock?" he asks my pussy, his hot breath hitting my swollen and oversensitive clit.
"God, yes."
He looks up, causing his chin to press my hot button. My eyes widen when he moves his jaw from side to side, applying the pressure I need to explode. He's refused to touch that spot on me since he started devouring me forever ago. "How bad do you want my cock?"
I whine pathetically and loud.
"Tell me." The dominant way in which he's talking to me only makes me more needy for him.
"So bad. So, so, so bad."
"Where do you want it?"
"Inside me." I gasp, feeling a slight tremor start to roll over my body. If he keeps chinning me, I'm going to come, and I want him inside me when I do.
"Your mouth? Your pussy?" His eyes get a mischievous glint to them. "Or maybe your ass?"
"Oh, shit." I gasp.
"Tell me where. Now, Wrenlee."
My legs shake; my orgasm so close. "In my pussy."
He doesn't move. He continues to look at me with so much rapture in his expression from just pleasuring me alone. His chin continues to work me to the brink of insanity, and just when I'm about to shoot off the bed into a million pieces, he lifts his head and leans back.
Next thing I know, he's pulling me by the hips further down the bed. My squeak of surprise from the sudden movement turns into a shrill scream when he bends down and stuffs his cock inside me in one deliciously rough thrust. I'm shocked I didn't shatter all the glass around us because my screams don't stop there. Nope. His fullness stretches me, mixing my pleasure with pain; the feeling is so intense that I'm half-convinced the sheer power of it is going to kill me.
He powers his cock into me, not holding back at all. I realize why he moved us almost to the end of the bed when his thrusts move us across the bed in seconds. He drops one side of his body to rest his weight on his elbow; the move catches me off guard, grinding the coarse hair at the base of his cock against my clit. I scream out again, louder. I realize why he shifted a moment later when he places his hand on the top of my head only seconds before he almost fucked me into the headboard of my bed--his hand protecting my head from the hard surface.
"Play with your tits, Wren," he demands, his nostrils flaring rapidly. "Palm your tits and feed them to me."
Fuck, that's hot.
I drop my hands from where I had been clawing at his back and do what he commands. My hands squeeze them briefly before holding one free, waiting for his mouth, and playing with the other breast's nipple. He dips slightly, pushing even deeper into me, the fullness overwhelming as he stretches me. Then his mouth opens, and he wraps his lips wide around my breast. He isn't gentle, sucking hard until he has more than just the pink skin around my nipple in his mouth. His wet tongue flicks and licks before he nips his teeth against the pointed tip.
My legs quiver, and I feel myself get even wetter around him.
He releases me with a pop before rolling us and falling to his back on the bed, never losing the connection of our bodies. He had shifted while his cock was powering out of my wetness, so when he landed, he used his hands at my hips to hold me there--with just the tip of his thick cock inside me.
My whimper is shameless at the loss of him. I can feel my body trying to suck him back as I thicken around him with fluttered kisses against his cock head.
"Please, God, please, Chance." I wiggle, trying to loosen his hold on me.
"Show me how I make you feel," he tells me with a hoarse voice. The veins in his neck pulse, highlighting the raw power raging inside him. "Give me what I crave."
I cry out weakly. Then he releases his hold on my hips, pulling his wrists free of my hands effortlessly despite the harsh grip I had on them. The second I'm free, I slam my body down, taking him deeper than ever before. He stretches me, fills me completely. I drop my hands to his chest, dig my nails into his firm flesh, and start to move.
My whole body moves against his, using him for my pleasure while giving him his own. His grunts and deep sounds of enjoyment get lost when I push up from my hold on his chest and start to roll my hips as the pleasure washes over me. My legs shake, and I lose the ability to move. My hips fall down, his cock being sucked and squeezed while my pussy pulses around him, and tremors of pure ecstasy wash over me. My head rolls back at the same time he gives a shout of completion. I look at the ceiling before my vision blurs as the warmth of
his come splashes inside me, and my throat burns from the shrillness of my screams.
I'm vaguely aware of Chance moving me, his deep voice saying something, but I'm so lost to my pleasure that I'm helpless to do anything but ride it out. The last thought I have before I pass out from too much stimulation is that I was wrong--Chance doesn't come close to the high I get going on stage. Nope, he doesn't come close because he takes that sentiment and blows it into space.
And I have a feeling there will be no coming back from an addiction to that kind of high.
I roll onto my back and stretch my overused muscles. Opening my eyes, I look around the room, but I don't see Chance anywhere. A quick glance at the clock tells me that I must have been asleep for a while. I might have been catching up on my sleep since we've been home, but no matter how much rest I've gotten, you don't get fucked like that and not need to recover.
Or did I do the fucking?
Maybe it was a mutual fucking. Yeah, that sounds about right.
I can't keep the smile off my face as I move my sore body to the edge of the bed. Standing on wobbly feet, I make my way to my en suite. Avoiding the mirror, I walk into my shower and crank the hot water on. I spend more time than necessary in there, washing my hair and body before shaving all the important bits. Then I stand there and let the hot pulses pound over my sore skin. The long bench seat fills my vision, and I immediately think of how I need to get Chance in here before we leave for Vegas.
"I was starting to wonder if you would wake up at all."
I screech and whip my head around toward Chance's voice. He's standing on the other side of the glass door of my shower fully clothed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt. My eyes go straight to his crotch, and I think about how much I enjoy that part of him.
He's without a doubt the thickest and fattest that I've ever seen. He isn't crazy long, probably slightly above average, but what he lacks in length, he makes up for ten times over in girth.
He covers his crotch with his hands, and my eyes shoot to his. "Stop whatever you're thinking," he commands with a slight twitch of his mouth.
I shut off the water and reach out for a towel before turning to speak. "I can't help it, you know." Then I lower my voice and look up at him through hooded eyes. "I can still feel you. Deep inside my body, I still feel you."
"Shit," he hisses.
"I don't ever want to know what it feels like not to feel the ache of you deep inside me."
"Goddamn." His eyes close tightly, and I watch as he brings his hand up to adjust himself. "You're going to be my undoing, Wren."
"Same goes, hubby."
Getting control of himself, he does that manly juggle thing they do with their fingers against their crotch before straightening. I make a mental note to ask him what that actually does. Seems to me, it wouldn't be comfortable for your sensitive parts to be jiggled like that, but I don't have a dick, so I wouldn't know.
"Get dressed, babe. The guys and Dyllan got back a while ago, and I've had a hard time keeping them out for the last two hours."
Walking into my huge closet, I walk to the underwear drawer and pull on a bright red thong before grabbing the matching bra and dropping the towel. Chance groans deep in his chest, but I ignore him. I pull on some of my exercise shorts and one of our tour t-shirts before walking past him. It seemed safer to make sure I was dressed with him this close instead of answering him right away.
"Why would they be trying to get in here?"
I look in the mirror, pulling the brush through my hair, and wait for him to answer. If I'm not mistaken, he looks a little sheepish, but I shrug it off and drop the brush down.
"You aren't ... quiet." Chance holds my gaze in the mirror, but I turn and frown at him, not understanding. "I think there was some concern for your well-being from a few people."
"Tell me you're kidding." I gasp in shock.
"Dead serious."
"You're telling me that they all heard us having sex?"
He nods and has the nerve to twitch those devil lips of his into a small smirk.
"This is not funny," I spit out.
He attempts to hold it in, but that small smirk grows.
"You can't kill my brain into forgetting to be embarrassed here."
"What are you talking about?" He laughs, that stupid smile already working its dark magic.
"Brain-dead buzz isn't going to make me forget that we had an audience."
He winces, and I cock my head at him. "Chance?"
"Not everyone saw, so it wasn't really an audience."
"Not everyone saw what?" I scream.
"And I turned you before they saw much," he adds.
"Tell me you're joking."
He steps closer. "Do you think I want anyone else seeing you like that?"
The seriousness of his tone ebbs some of my panic, and I focus on him. "I'm guessing no?"
He steps even closer, wrapping his arms around my body to pull me to him. "That would be a hell no. You're beautiful, Wren, but when your pussy is soaking my cock while you scream out your release, you're so stunning it makes my chest feel too small for my heart. So yeah ... it's a definite hell no."
"I'll work on being quieter," I utter breathily, his words melting me.
"That would be appreciated." He kisses the tip of my nose and turns with his hand holding mine to walk out of the sanctuary of my bedroom.
"Stop looking at me like that," I snap at Wes, tossing my pizza crust at him. He snags it off the table before stuffing it into his mouth, still scowling. "Weston Davenport, seriously, I'll cut off your balls."
He opens his mouth to speak, but the loud thump of a body smacking against the hardwood floor interrupts our showdown. I jump in my seat and twist to see what caused the sound.
Jamison pulls himself off the floor, water dripping from his clothing to form a large puddle at his feet. He doesn't even give the audience he's attracted a single notice. He shakes his head, water droplets flying from his hair, and then starts peeling off his clothes.
That drained the shock out of a few of us.
"What the fuck, man!" Luke bellows, making Jamison look up while he continues to yanks his jeans down his legs.
"What the fuck, what, man?" he asks back almost like he's actually confused that we would be stunned by him standing in the middle of the kitchen, completely naked, and soaking wet. To be fair, though, I don't know why anything Jamison does shocks us anymore.
"I think what Luke here is trying to convey to you is that he would appreciate it if you would cover up your little pecker," Dyllan says in a monotone voice, not even looking up from the magazine she's been thumbing through for the last half hour.
I swing my eyes from her back to Jamison to see him looking at my best friend in horror before glancing down at his dick. Naturally, I follow his lead too. I challenge you to find a woman out there who wouldn't look when there's a man unabashed in his nudity flashing everyone his dangly bits right in front of her. It doesn't matter that Jamison and I are as close as siblings would be; bottom line, he isn't my brother, so the laws of naked penis viewing do not apply.
"My dick isn't little!" Jamison yells, turning his head to look down at himself from another angle then snapping his head up to spear her with a glare of outrage. "Take it back, Dyll! Take it back now."
"It's okay, Jami. There is no need to get upset about it now that everyone knows. They make pills and pumps for that problem now." She continues to wind him up with little effort.
His face gets red. Or I should say redder. "You didn't think it was little when you were begging me to fuck you harder."
Dyllan throws her magazine down onto the table, looking up without a hint of embarrassment or shame, and gives him her full attention. She studies him for a second--head to toe--before smirking one hell of an evil little smirk. "Of course, I didn't tell you then. I was too busy begging for you to go harder so I could actually feel something."
The men around the table snicker to themselves, but I'm
too interested in how this will play out. I make a mental note to make her tell me everything. I hadn't had a chance to make her talk after her whole 'they look at you different' pep talk the other night, but now, after this, you bet your ass I'm going to make time for that talk.
Chance's arms come around my body, pulling me across the bench seat to his side. My attention still bouncing back and forth between Dyllan and Jamison, I'm completely fascinated. This is better than must-see TV.
"Stop looking at him naked," Chance murmurs in my ear, slightly playful but definitely serious.
I snort. Yeah, right. Fat chance of that happening.
"Take it back," Jamison demands, apparently having enough of trying to kill her with his eyes.
"Get over yourself," Dyllan titters, and with one more look at Jamison's dick, she turns back to the magazine, her bored expression back.
Jesus, she's either one hell of an actor, Jamison sucked in bed, or he did something to earn this treatment from her. My guess is the former. It's more likely that Jamison was being a total douchebag than him sucking in bed, and I can't think of a single person who would be unaffected by seeing him naked. He's built with muscles so defined he looks like he could be made of stone, tattooed, tall as hell, and has model-perfect looks. He's cocky as hell for a reason when it comes to women, after all.
Jamison mutters under his breath, and I turn back from my silent attempt at trying to catch Dyllan's attention to look at him. I'm not sure what I expected, but seeing him pet himself--down there--while mumbling under his breath damn sure wasn't it. My eyes track his fingers as they lightly brush up and down the length of himself before quickly diverting my attention, not wanting to agitate Chance any more than I already have. However, I wasn't quick enough because before I could look away, I notice that Dyllan is full of shit.
Jamison has a monster between his legs.
Turning in my seat, I do my best to ignore the blond giant still mumbling behind me, and I pick up a new slice of pizza, pretending that the last five minutes didn't happen.
There have been some close calls over the years, living in such close proximity to these guys and their constant 'extracurricular activities,' but this was the first time I had ever seen his junk. I've walked in on one of them naked more time than I can count, but they were always covered up with a towel or a woman, so I was spared.
