Pick Six: A Quick Snap Novella

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Pick Six: A Quick Snap Novella Page 5

by S. A. Clayton


  I’ve never been fucked like this. It’s almost like if he doesn't get as deep as he can, everything will disappear. It borders on desperate, and I love everything about it.

  His lips find mine once again, but this time, everything changes. His hips slow, his fingers grab hold of my ass to pull me even closer, and he starts to make love to me. The change of pace is so shocking and erotic, it brings my impending orgasm even closer to the surface.

  I can't help the groan that leaves my throat as my arms wrap around his neck, and I bring him as close to me as possible. My legs tighten around his waist as I tug him closer and feel his cock pushing deeper and deeper inside of me.

  “Fuck, Ash, you keep squeezing me like that, and I’ll come.”

  Our eyes meet just as I squeeze him even harder, my lips meeting his in one last kiss before I feel his cock grow. A guttural groan leaves his throat as his thumb finds my clit just as his hips buck. He comes instantly, sending me over the edge with him. An intense orgasm I didn't even know I could feel surfaces and sends convulsions through my entire body.

  It only takes a minute before both of us come back to Earth. When Brooks leaves my body, the empty feeling that follows isn’t something I anticipated.

  “That was not what I was expecting when I came over,” he says, trying to catch his breath. I laugh as he takes off the condom, tying off the end and throwing it in the wastebasket beside the bed.

  “Really? Because that's exactly what I pictured when I saw you in my doorway.” I smile as he rolls onto his side to face me. His fingers trail over my stomach, sending goosebumps over my exposed flesh.

  “Trust me. I pictured it many times, but I didn't think I’d be lucky enough to experience it,” he whispers, his fingers tracing small patterns across my exposed skin.

  I blush, not really knowing what to do. It was still daylight outside.

  “Do you have to work today?” he asks, and I shake my head, praising God for letting me have today off.

  “Why?” I ask, not really knowing what to do as I continue watching his fingers trace patterns on my stomach.

  “Because I was hoping to spend the rest of the day exploring this body of yours. If that's okay with you…” He trails off as he lowers his head, and his lips and tongue trace those same patterns on my stomach. My eyes drink him in because, for some reason, the idea of this perfect specimen wanting to spend the day worshiping me doesn't seem real. But the minute my fingers run through the strands of his hair, and I feel him groan against my sensitive skin, I smile.

  This seems almost too good to be true.

  “It's real, Ash,” Brooks mutters as his eyes meet mine. When I look down at him in confusion, he laughs quietly.

  “I can feel those wheels turning in that head of yours, and I want you to know that it's real. My feelings for you are real and intense. Yes, it’s fast, but we have time to figure all that shit out. I just want to spend the day with you, both inside and outside of this room. But mostly in this bed, because I am nowhere near done with you.” He groans as his lips find mine again. With every pass of his tongue, I forget all the things I was thinking about earlier.

  Chapter 8

  Brooks

  The sunshine through the open window casts light across my face as my eyes struggle to open. When I see the lavender curtains and light grey walls, I remember that I'm not in my own bed.

  Ashley shifts next to me, my eyes tracking down her body that is only half covered by the sheet. The expanse of her back is exposed, her arms under the pillow as her breath cascades over my skin. I can't look away. I take in her tangled hair that seems to have a mind of its own, and her flushed cheeks. I can't help but smile because this isn't exactly what I expected when I came over yesterday, but it's precisely what I wanted.

  Her clock on the nightstand tells me it's still early, and from the sounds coming from Ash’s sleeping body, I know she's nowhere near ready to get up. So, I peel myself away from her, get out of bed, and find the pants that I threw on the floor. After I pull them on, I give her one last look and take a deep breath as feelings course through me, making me lose my breath. The emotions are fierce, and I know they are way too intense for having only known her for a few days.

  Before I decide to wake her and confess everything way too soon, I make my way out of the room and into the kitchen to see if she has anything in her fridge to feed my starving stomach. The kitchen is small, the design so adorable and…Ashley that I take a minute to simply look around. The walls are a soft blue, and very sheer lace curtains bracket the windows. If I didn't know better, I’d say I just stepped into a farmhouse. My eyes finally land on the coffee pot in the corner beside the fridge. I decide that caffeine is more important than food. At least, right now. Usually, I try to stay away from too many cups of coffee a day because it negatively affects my ability on the field. However, since the season hasn't started yet, and I spent most of the night making Ashley scream my name, I think I deserve at least one cup.

  Just as my cup fills, I hear a noise from behind me. When I look back, Ashley is standing there with her hair up in a messy topknot, eyes all puffy, lips swollen, wearing nothing but my shirt. I almost drop dead right there.

  “Ash, what are you doing up? It's too early,” I say softly, wanting nothing more than to haul her over to me and have my way with her right in the kitchen. She gives me a sleepy smile before she makes her way across the room, her jaw cracking on a big yawn.

  “I have to get ready for work soon anyway,” she says as she gets closer. “You made coffee?” She places her hands on my bare chest and leans in for a short kiss. But I can't leave it at just a peck, not with my shirt hanging off her like a dress. Not with the way her nails dig into my skin the moment my fingers graze her bare legs. And definitely not with the way her lips open to mine as our tongues tangle together.

  I need more.

  Even though I took her three times yesterday, I know I need another taste before leaving this house. Before she can break the embrace, I grab her, lift her into my arms, and spin around until she hits the counter. Her ass lands on the marble as my hands grasp the hem of my shirt and lift, exposing every inch of her glorious body.

  “Again?” she whimpers as my fingers make their way up her thighs, then past her stomach to stop at the undersides of her tits.

  “Baby, if you think three times was enough, then you underestimated this…” I take her hand and place it against my cock, which is hardening by the second. I know she can feel it even through my jeans as her eyes close. A groan leaves my throat as her fingers lightly squeeze.

  “I could never get enough…” I trail off as my mouth covers hers, concealing her whimper. My hands grab her hips once more as I haul her as close to me as I can get her.

  “Fuck, Brooks.” She moans as my lips trail down the side of her neck, moving past her collarbone to stop at the swell of her breasts.

  “I need…” she mumbles as her hips lift off the counter, clearly trying to get as much friction as possible.

  “You need what, Ash?” I say with a low chuckle, knowing exactly what she wants. But I want to hear it from her lips.

  “I need you to…” She trails off again as my fingers slide up the insides of her thighs and trail over her exposed pussy. Her breath catches every time I circle her aching clit. She's soaking wet, and it makes my cock even harder as I trail my lips back up her chest and stop at the shell of her ear.

  “I want to hear it, Ash. I want to hear you tell me you want my fingers to fuck you.” Her head falls back just as my digits trace her wet folds. Her hips continue to circle, clearly wanting more.

  “I want to come. Please…” she begs, just as I give her a sly smile and thrust my fingers into her pussy. Her walls immediately start to convulse. My head falls against her shoulder as I try to breathe through the desire coursing through me.

  “Fuck!” she screams as I start to piston my fingers in and out of her, wanting to feel the orgasm I know is close to the surface. I
've never been with a woman who came this quickly. All I know is the sounds coming out of her gorgeous mouth make it harder for me to stay in control.

  “I know you do, gorgeous. And I can feel that pussy pulsing, waiting.”

  She continues with the unintelligible noises the faster my fingers fuck her. As her eyes meet mine, I know I need to make her come so I can fuck her the way I want. So, I do the one thing I know will send her over the edge. I bend down, my eyes never leaving hers. Her breathing increases. As my tongue darts out to touch her pussy, her legs start to shake.

  That one touch is all it takes. She goes off like a bomb. Though it's not until my lips wrap around her clit, sucking, that I feel her pussy walls constrict, the orgasm erupting as I bask in the sight of this woman coming like it's her damn job.

  Ash’s head tilts back, her back bowing as all sensibility leaves her, and she becomes consumed with the feelings coursing through her body.

  And I simply watch.

  Because it's the most erotic thing I have ever seen.

  Just as I’m about to undo my pants and fuck her like I’ve thought about since waking up this morning, Ashley sits up, her hands stopping mine at the apex of my zipper. She shakes her head. I quirk an eyebrow as she pushes me away from the edge of the counter and jumps down to the floor.

  “What's going through that head of yours?” I ask, my fingers playing with the button of my jeans as a sly look crosses her face.

  “I want to do something that I wanted to do last night. Unfortunately, you never gave me a chance since you spent almost every moment between my legs,” she murmurs as she softly kisses my bare chest, her eyes never leaving mine.

  “If you try hard enough, I think you can figure out what I want,” she whispers as she lowers to her knees on the floor. At that sight, my cock goes rock-fucking-hard. Ashley on her knees wasn't something I expected, but holy fuck, it's sexier than anything I could ever imagine.

  “Ash, baby. You don’t have to—” My words get cut off when her hand unfastens my jeans, and she tugs them down past my hips. As her soft breath touches my cock, I groan loudly.

  “I know I don't have to, but I want to.'' Her words make their way into my consciousness, but the minute her fingers brush against my shaft, every thought I had earlier leaves my brain. Her touch sends me closer to the edge quicker than I expect. I find myself counting backward from ten just to stop the experience from being over too soon.

  I grab onto her messy bun, rip the elastic away, and delve my fingers into her loose strands as I look down and bask in the sight of Ash on her knees, her hair a mess, and her hands wrapped around my cock. The only thing that could make this moment any better would be her lips wrapped around me. As if she read my mind, she winks and lowers her head to suckle my cock.

  My fingers tighten in her hair as she takes me deeper and deeper, her moans vibrating through me, sending me closer to the orgasm that's coming way too quickly for my liking.

  “Shit, that feels so fucking good.”

  She moans around me as my eyes take her in, my breath catching as I hit the back of her throat.

  “You keep doing that, and I'm gonna come in that pretty mouth,” I warn, wanting nothing more than to do just that, but also wanting to feel her pussy around me one more time. I try to pry myself away from her lips, but her grip on my ass is firm, and she tugs me closer still. My cock hits the back of her throat once more. This time, she swallows.

  And I lose all control.

  God, that feels incredible.

  “I want you to come in my mouth,” Ashley whispers as she takes my cock in her small hand and starts stroking, her eyes meeting mine as her tongue comes out and teases the tip. I can't do anything but surrender to her because I know that, at this moment, I’d give Ashley anything she wants and more.

  She doesn't wait for my response before she takes me into her mouth again. This time, she doesn't let up. Her hot, warm depths bring me closer and closer to the edge, but it's not until her delicate fingers cup my balls that everything goes white, and I start to come.

  She moans as my fingers dig into her scalp, and I come harder than I ever have in my entire life. My legs buckle as I try to loosen my grip on her hair. Once I let go, her head tilts back, and she smiles up at me.

  “Come here,” I growl, pulling her up from the floor and bringing her lips to mine.

  I see the desire still lingering in her eyes at the kiss, and I pray that I can keep this feeling that's taken root inside my chest.

  Chapter 9

  Ashley

  The text on my phone causes the smile on my face to grow as I head out of the house and walk toward my car. Brooks left a few hours ago, leaving me feeling utterly sated and ready for tonight where he promised to come back for round four...or was it five? At this point, I have no idea. What I do know is that I want to see more of him, and not just with his clothes off. I love his sense of humor, his ability to make me feel at ease no matter the situation. Obviously, his talent in the bedroom is something I will definitely brag about to anyone who will listen.

  See you tonight.

  That's all the text says, but the implication is more than enough to make me wish the day was already over. I throw my phone onto the passenger seat once I get into my car and head toward the hotel. The minute I turn the corner and see what’s in front of me, I realize I should have stayed home.

  The parking lot is a sea of reporters. As I pull into my spot near the front doors, they descend. They knock on my windows, bang on the hood, and shout question after question over one another to the point where I can't understand anything. Just as I’m about to open my car door, my phone rings.

  Before I utter even one word, Daisey yells, “Do not get out of your car!” There is a hint of panic in her voice, and I tell her to calm down. Say I’ll just push past them and make my way inside.

  As I try to open my door again, pushing bodies out of the way, I can feel panic start to rise. I have never loved confined spaces, and even though I’m still outside, the sheer number of people surrounding me causes those panicked feelings to rise to the surface.

  “Ms. Wilson! What is your relationship with Brooks Davis?” one reporter screams as I duck back in and grab my purse and phone from inside the car then try to haul ass to the front door as quickly as possible.

  “How did you meet Brooks?” another calls. I try to ignore them as best I can and look up where I can see Daisey and Marcy standing with the door ajar. Daisey has a panicked look on her face, and Marcy looks a combination of annoyed and concerned.

  I take a deep breath and push my way through the rest of the sea of reporters.

  “Miss Wilson, did you sleep with him?”

  I stop dead in my tracks. I turn and see a female reporter coming closer, microphone gripped in her hand. She looks to be around my age, with blond hair and a pretty face. For a split second, I feel sorry for her. She's the only woman in a sea of men, and I wonder what she had to sacrifice to get here. What lines did she have to cross to be standing in front of me now, asking if I slept with someone?

  “Miss Wilson, I will ask again, did you sleep with him?” Her tone is clipped, her stance trying to intimidate me. Lucky for me, being the manager of a hotel means I’m a master at evading stupid-ass questions.

  However, what comes out of my mouth is not dignified. I simply blurt out, “That is none of your goddamn business.”

  Our eyes lock right before I push forward and finally make it to the door. Once inside, the unease creeps back in stronger, and I’m not sure why. As Daisey shuts the door to block out all the craziness from outside, I take a moment to bask in the silence.

  “Are you okay?” Daisey asks as I lean back against the closed front doors and stare straight ahead. I catch glimpses of employees staring in my direction, but I can't stop the rising panic that tries to claw its way out of my skin.

  How did they find out where I work?

  How do they know about Brooks and me?

  Ho
w am I going to get home without them following me and discovering where I live?

  Then a cynical mental voice tells me that if they know where I work, they probably already know more about me than I want them to. And that includes my home address and everything in between. I catch the attention of a group of employees standing in a circle whispering—laughing at something at my expense, I'm sure. Marcy quickly shoos them away and turns back to look at me.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” I mutter, pushing myself off the door as Marcy leads me back toward her office. I know I’m not in any trouble. I mean, it's not my fault the paparazzi are hounding me like I’m Jennifer Anniston in the middle of a pregnancy rumor. But this does affect the hotel and the people inside it, so the serious look on Marcy’s face doesn't make me feel all warm and fuzzy.

  Marcy is precisely what you would expect from a woman who owns and runs a successful hotel. She's dressed in a black pantsuit with a red silk blouse underneath. Her hair is cut in a pin-straight bob, and dark glasses surround her eyes. Sometimes, Daisey jokes that Marcy kind of looks like Edna Mode from that animated movie, and now I can't stop seeing the resemblance.

  “Sit,” Marcy says, her voice a little harder than usual, but nothing I haven't dealt with before. I have pretty much known her my entire life. She's been my cheerleader since I was a teenager, and my aunt convinced her that hiring me was a good business decision. Since then, I’ve tried to make sure she never regretted that decision.

  Marcy's office is bland, not a family photo or piece of art anywhere. All I can see are diplomas and articles written about the success she garnered throughout her career. Honestly, if I created something from the ground up, I would plaster that shit on every surface, too. But right now, the office feels less inviting than usual.

  “I’m so sorry, Marcy. I have no idea who they are or how they found me,” I admit, but she just holds up her hand and sits down behind her desk.

 

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