Under Your Influence

by Jaxson Kidman

  When he began to kiss up my body, he did so painfully and torturously slow.

  I shivered, and my belly rolled as his tongue flickered at my belly button.

  My hips were still gently rocking, but every muscle in my legs… from my calves up to my ass… were sore from coming so hard and so often.

  I arched my back and offered my chest to Tyler.

  His hands were there before his mouth.

  Cupping my breasts and playing with me.

  Kneading them with the perfect amount of force. His fingertips teasing my nipples, making me shiver again, almost sending a ticklish sensation through me because my body didn’t know what else to do at that point.

  Face it, before Tyler and before tonight, my lovemaking life consisted of foreplay, asking what we wanted to do and then five minutes of touching, then fucking followed by him falling asleep and me convincing myself that things were good. Even if I had to finish the job myself.

  I knew this… I had no desire to touch myself right now. And if I did, I had the courage and desire to just grab Tyler’s messy hair and slam his face between my legs where I liked him best. That was the only time I wanted his tongue to do anything. Because when he spoke, he pissed me off.

  His right hand cut between my breasts and moved up to my face. He cupped my cheek and his left hand went to the bed. He pressed himself up off my body. That’s when I watched him gaze upon my body. He was built like rock; like a machine made for catching bad guys and fucking beautiful women. Yet he was with me. He let me get drunk and vent about my freshly broken heart. He listened and still wanted me around.

  That all had to mean something.

  What, I wasn’t sure of yet.

  “Just… damn… darling,” he growled as he looked at me again.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he said.

  Before I could press the issue, he pressed his cock to my lower belly.

  He was bare now, the condom at some point removed and tossed to the floor like our clothes.

  Without hesitation I slipped my right hand between us and touched him.

  He was full again. His shaft the hardness of steel. My hand moving slowly at first, so I could memorize him. It felt like I was going for miles down his impressive length until I reached his thick root. I tried to squeeze tight, but he was… big.

  I swallowed hard and stared at him as I reversed the motion.

  When I felt the defined head of his dick in the palm of my hand, I squeezed again. I bit my lip knowing exactly what that spot did to me. What it felt like.

  What I wanted more of…

  I pushed at him. “Now.”

  “Darling…”

  “Like this,” I whispered. “Right now.”

  “Dangerous game.”

  “Everything about you is dangerous, Tyler,” I said.

  “You're the dangerous one, Harper, not me,” he said.

  He slid down and eased between my legs.

  He pressed forward and entered me.

  My hands curled at the sheets as I felt him. No protection. Meaning I was trusting him. Or maybe I was just being stupid.

  He sank into me and I arched my back again, taking it all.

  My mind exploded like a water balloon on the sidewalk during a hot summer day.

  Tyler grunted as he held deep again, thrust and lifting with that strength that no man had ever given to me before. I could take it. I craved it. It was my new favorite addiction.

  Tyler began to take me. Thrusting and pumping. Moving with the speed he needed for himself. He was being greedy, and I was the one still getting the benefits from it. His hand touching my face stayed there, holding tight. His other hand traveled from the bed to my hip, to my breast, to my other breast, down to my stomach, down to my clit, back to my hip and finally back to the bed.

  The faster he moved the more he filled up.

  I groaned as he brought himself closer to climax.

  If he decided to release deep inside me, I wasn’t worried. I was protected either way.

  At the last possible second, Tyler hissed and pulled back, leaving my core suddenly lonely and begging for more.

  His cock touched my stomach and I hurried to grab for him just as he started to release. He grunted as the first spurt of himself hit my belly button. I groaned as I looked down, watching him come all over my stomach. Each time I pulled at him, more released. My hand was warm and wet from both of our release. I kept going, feeling him start to soften but he was still going.

  Tyler moved away from me and my hand, leaving me there, on the bed, taking deep breaths, staring at the warm and perfect mess all over me.

  He stood on the floor at the bottom of the bed, his hard muscles glistening with sweat.

  There were then a few seconds between us when we just stared at each other.

  I swallowed hard again, reminding myself to keep breathing.

  I blamed the sex high talking, but I was sort of starting to like Tyler.

  I reached across the bed, my body and mind already convinced that the night could continue into the morning.

  The other side of the bed was empty.

  I popped up and wrestled with my messy bed head.

  Tyler was gone.

  Of course he was gone.

  He wasn’t the cuddling type.

  He was the fuck you until you fall asleep type.

  Which was what he did to me.

  I didn’t think I was going to be able to move, but I was so well rested. I couldn’t remember the last time I woke up so refreshed and ready to tackle the day.

  Tackle the day? What the fuck did that mean?

  I blinked fast when I saw something on his pillow.

  A note.

  I grinned.

  I reached for the note.

  It was written in sloppy, manly handwriting.

  Morning wife - crappy coffee is downstairs. I’ll be home from work later. I put a box of spaghetti on the counter. And a jar of sauce. I like my dinner nice and hot - just like you. I’m pretty sure you can’t mess up boiling water. I guess we’ll find out.

  Love,

  Tyler

  I crumbled up the note and threw it across the bedroom.

  Of course he would find a way to screw up the morning and my feelings. He couldn’t just be sweet and kind, right?

  Why would he be?

  He was the guy who offered for me to drink with him and let me marry him.

  Because this was all my fault.

  I climbed out of Tyler’s bed and opened the drawers of his dresser until I found the t-shirts. I chose a black t-shirt with the police department logo on the back of it and put that on. My plan was to turn off the crappy coffeemaker and then get my day in order. The beauty of my job was that I could do a lot of it from anywhere in the world.

  When I shuffled into the kitchen, I paused.

  The crappy little coffeemaker was tucked away in the corner of the kitchen.

  But the kitchen smelled like coffee.

  There was a new coffeemaker there.

  A big one.

  Full of fresh coffee.

  The container of coffee was a high-end brand too.

  Tyler did this… for me?

  Right next to that was a box of spaghetti and a jar of sauce.

  With a note.

  Don’t fuck it up, darling.

  I crumbled that note up too.

  I poured myself some coffee.

  It was damn good.

  I hugged myself as I leaned against the counter, telling my mind to forget about the night before. My body ached in places that refused to let me do just that.

  I helped myself to a second cup of coffee.

  Tyler was a jerk.

  But I was still in his house.

  Still wearing the engagement ring and the wedding band.

  I’d make him dinner, sure.

  But tonight, we were going to figure this thing out once and for all.

  18

  (Tyler) />
  I lifted my fork off the plate and there was a glob of spaghetti stuck together. It was maybe about a quarter of the box. I stared at it and could smell the sauce. It was burned. Which meant Harper didn’t know how to boil spaghetti or warm up pasta sauce.

  “This tastes like shit,” she said and spit a mouthful of partially chewed spaghetti on the plate.

  “Yeah, it does,” I said and I put my fork down.

  “Wow,” Harper said. “Thanks for the fake praise.”

  “Why would I fake praise you?”

  “Isn’t that what a husband is supposed to do for his wife? Especially in the beginning…”

  “I’ve never been married before, darling.”

  “Neither have I,” she said.

  I reached for her hand with a cocky grin on my face. “You just referred to yourself as my wife and me as your husband.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said and ripped her hand away. She stood up and carried her plate into the kitchen. “You bought a new coffeemaker?”

  “Just for you,” I said.

  “Thanks. But I have one at my place.”

  “Your apartment? The place where you’re never there?”

  “I’m leaving tonight,” she said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I live there,” Harper said. “I pay rent. It’s my home.”

  I slowly stood up and carried my plate to the trash.

  Together, we scrapped our spaghetti and sauce into the trash. We put our plates in the sink at the same time. It was quiet yet flirty.

  I didn’t want her to leave.

  But she did have somewhere else to live.

  “How was your day today?” she asked me.

  “Not too bad,” I said.

  “Any crazy shootouts?”

  “Only three,” I said with a wink.

  “Isn’t it dangerous? What you do?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Why do it?”

  “I’m a cop,” I said.

  “Why did you become a cop?”

  I turned and leaned against the counter. “Is this you getting to know me?”

  Harper sighed. “Forget I asked.”

  I laughed. “Should we talk about this marriage thing?”

  “All we need to talk about is how to take care of it.”

  “You want to divorce me already?”

  Harper touched my arm. “Newsflash, Tyler, I never wanted to marry you.”

  “That’s not what you said that night, darling. It was your idea. We were getting ready to come back here. You were all over me. Horny little devil.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Hey, don’t hate on me. I appreciate a woman who isn’t afraid to show what she wants. But my point is that when we got into the car to leave, you climbed on my lap and started joking about getting married. To get back at your ex.”

  “Yeah, you said that before,” Harper said. “And you didn’t think to stop me?”

  “Why would I?”

  “Because we’re strangers, Tyler. Strangers don’t get married.”

  I pushed from the counter. “Let’s look at it this way, darling. We have a connection. Your ex doesn’t make me jealous or threaten me. I bought you a coffeemaker because you hated the one I had. You suck at cooking and we can be honest about that with each other. We’re great together in bed. What else do we need?”

  Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “We don’t love each other. We don’t belong together.”

  She started to move, and I quickly grabbed her wrist. “You don’t know that. But… if we’re going to make this marriage worth the aggravation, then we need to do what you wanted to do with it.”

  “Which is?”

  “Make your ex jealous. So, let’s do it.”

  “You’re kidding…”

  “No,” I said. “Let’s track his ass down and drive him crazy. I’m thinking you talk to him and I walk up behind you and start touching you. Slide my hands around your perfect body and up over your tits. I’ll move your hair away from your neck and kiss all the spots he once thought were his…”

  Harper swallowed hard.

  “Hell, for all I care, he could watch me. He could watch me do all the things to you that he thought he did right but never could.”

  “Well, aren’t you confident?” Harper asked.

  I touched her cheek. “I have proof.”

  “Oh yeah? What proof?”

  “I can still taste you on my tongue,” I whispered. “Your sweetness. If you came any harder last night, darling, I thought I was going to have to call paramedics. Which means you’ve been touched but never really fucked.”

  I winked and inched my hand to the back of her head.

  She hurried and grabbed my wrist and pulled me away.

  “Think whatever you want,” she said. “And as long as you’re serious about making Brian jealous, I’m cool with it. We can figure something out. I’m sure I can dig up where he and his whore will be.”

  “Whore, huh?”

  Harper shrugged her shoulders. “I have the right to call her that. Even if she turns out to be a great person. Even for him.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” I said. “What he did. The way he did it. We can make him jealous and I can beat him up if you’d like.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Harper said. “But won’t that get you in trouble? A cop beating up someone?”

  “I don’t plan that far ahead. I act in the moment.”

  Harper held up her left hand. “I can see that.”

  “You know… I love how you keep wearing the rings.”

  Harper rolled her eyes and walked out of the kitchen.

  “Where are you going? We didn’t eat dinner.”

  “I made dinner,” she called out. “You chose not to eat it. That’s on you.”

  “So, you’re leaving?”

  Harper looked back. “After I shower.”

  “Here?”

  “You have better water pressure.”

  She strutted away with her hips swinging left to right, trying to hypnotize me.

  She didn’t need to worry about that.

  She had been doing that from the second I met her.

  I gave her a minute before I started to walk toward the steps.

  To me, it was simple…

  If the bathroom was left unlocked, that was a clear sign of an invite.

  I opened the shower door and gazed upon Harper’s body. She was facing the water, leaving me with the sight of her back, the curve of her ass, and the back of her legs. Everything about her was put together the right way.

  “Tyler?” she asked.

  “My shower,” I said. “You don’t live here, remember?”

  “I’m a guest. Don’t I get privacy?”

  “Nope,” I said as I stepped into the shower and shut the door.

  Now let’s be honest here… Harper could have left the shower. She could have turned the water cold and ran. She could have swung her foot and kicked me in the balls.

  Instead, she stood there, not moving.

  I stepped up to her body and touched her ribs. I pulled her back, feeling the lower curve of her back rest against my dick. I throbbed, once, and that was it. I was filling up by the breath after that.

  My hands slid around to the front of her body and crept up, just as I told her I would do in front of her ex. Her wet body made her skin smoother. Water bounced off my fingertips as I climbed up to her beautiful, full tits. They hung at just the right angle. Her nipples were already hard, the tender, wide circles of rich, pink flesh making my tongue ache to taste all of her, again.

  I brought my right hand to her back and took a handful of her wet hair and moved it over her right shoulder.

  I kissed the back of her neck and sucked in a deep breath.

  She gently rocked her waist left to right, rubbing her lower back against my throbbing dick.

  My right hand moved down her back and I put just enough space between the front of my
body and back of her body to move beyond the curve of her ass and slip between her legs. She was wet, and it wasn’t just from the shower either. My fingers played, making small circles, testing her even though I didn’t need to. I knew exactly how she felt. I had already savored her with my fingers, my tongue, and my body.

  I reversed my hand up to her back and paused.

  I kissed the back of her neck again.

  “I wanted to save people in trouble,” I whispered. “That’s why I became a cop. My mother passed away when I was really young, and I wasn’t able to save her. I had to live with my grandmother and all I did was watch cop shows and cop movies. I wanted to be the guy that could show up on someone’s worst day of their life and save it.”

  “Oh, Tyler,” Harper started to say.

  This wasn’t the time for conversation or attempted romance.

  I touched her chin with my left hand and made her turn her head, so I could kiss her.

  Our lips and tongues met just long enough to steal her words.

  Then I eased her forward, her hands against the tiled walls.

  I gritted my teeth and shook my head.

  Why the fuck did I just tell her about why I became a cop?

  I grabbed my dick and positioned it against her tender center.

  With just my full tip in her, I reached for her shoulder and pulled her back as I thrust forward.

  I sank deep with a growl.

  She cried out against the shower tiles and steam.

  The harder I fucked, the louder she yelled for me.

  The longer I fucked, the more I wanted this drunk marriage to become something real.

  19

  (Harper)

  I finished up the design for a new pet store opening in the next town over. I submitted what I felt was the final file, but I also offered the client all my working draft designs. I liked to keep the line of communication open and honest.

  I didn’t have an actual office, so I worked at my kitchen table. Half was for eating on and the other half I worked on. I had drawings and designs tacked to the wall next to the table. My plan was to get enough business going that I could open a small office. And hire someone to work with me. Not another designer but someone to run the desk.