by Penny Wylder
“Shit, I don't have a condom. Do you?”
“No, I don't.” He starts to pull back, but I quickly grab his shoulders and stop him. “Wait,” I say, holding his eyes on mine. “I'm okay with it if you're okay with it.”
I wait anxiously for an answer. Time seems to slow, but it doesn't stop my body from growing wetter and hotter. His eyes dart between mine, and I'm suddenly afraid he's going to reject me.
My heart races inside my chest, and my stomach starts to twist like corded rope. The feeling doesn't last long as Anders throws himself down, dragging a hand through my hair while his lips bruise mine with fierce passion.
I have his answer.
His hard cock presses against the inside of my thigh as he pulls his mouth away and starts to flutter kisses down my neck. Arching my back, his hand smooths down between the valley of my breasts, over my stomach and comes to a stop as he cups my mound.
“Your panties are so wet,” he whispers against my stomach as he continues kissing his way down my belly.
“Mm,” the moan falls out of my mouth as I rock my pussy against his palm. “You make me wet. You make me wetter than I've ever been before.”
He growls and gently nips my skin as he reaches my pussy. His mouth is hovering so close to my clit, I can feel his breath as he exhales. He hasn't even touched me with any part of his mouth yet, but my legs are shaking and my stomach is quaking.
With thick fingertips, he grips my knees and opens legs wider. His tongue drags over my panties, and he laps at the soaked lace before dragging them down with his teeth. He uses his hands to slide them over my hips and toss them aside. Then he is back between my legs, his lips hovering over my pussy, and then I feel it. A light flick against my clit, drawing out a long moan. The sharp edges of my teeth dig into my bottom lip as my back arches off the bed.
Holy shit.
My nails grip the blanket as his tongue sweeps down my slit and between the folds, then dips inside my heat. I can hear him eating me out, the sounds of his tongue and lips as they lick and suckle my swelling bud are the only sounds mixing with my moans.
His fingers clench my thighs harder as his tongue spears inside my body. Finding my clit again, he releases one leg and drives a finger inside my body.
“Mm,” he groans as my pussy pulses, clenching around his finger. A second finger stretches my walls as his tongue massages my clit with short strokes.
Looking down, Anders eyes are watching me. He's enjoying the show, the way he's manipulating my body with every flick of my clit.
Throwing a hand into his hair, I tear at his roots as everything around me goes silent. The world quickly fades, even my mind is blank. I'm only here, right here with him, and nothing else matters.
His head is moving, his fingers are penetrating, and the orgasm rips through my body without warning. My back arches hard again as a tremble renders me helpless.
Anders places an open palm on my belly and presses me back down. Lifting up onto his knees, his face and beard are glistening. He doesn't wipe his face off, instead he launches forward to kiss me. I can taste myself on his lips, and it actually turns me on.
His cock rests right between my legs, and I can feel it slide up, back and forth against my dripping seam as he whispers in my ear between kisses. “You taste so goddamn good, Laney. I want to be inside you so badly. I want to feel you completely.” But he doesn’t enter me yet. He keeps grinding between my legs, his cock getting harder as he kisses me everywhere: my neck, my eyes, my cheeks, my hair. He raises my arms and holds my wrists in one of his hands above my head, and then hikes my leg up, giving him better access. That’s when I feel the tip of his cock nudge inside me, and just that first inch causes my eyes to shut and I let out a deep moan. “Open your eyes,” he demands as he plunges deeper inside me, his cock ridged and firm. I wrap my leg around his hip as he grunts with every thrust. I open my eyes and look deep into his, so turned on by the mask of feral lust on his face. My hands are desperate to touch him, to drag my nails over his back, but he has my wrists trapped as he pistons his hips in and out with vigor.
“Mm, Anders,” I groan into his ear as he clutches my wrists even tighter in his hand.
His body is hot and sweaty as he drives his dick deep into my heat, filling me up. My pussy rubs his base as he fucks me over and over.
Another orgasm bubbles deep in my belly, spilling out as I loudly groan. Every muscle in my body tenses up as I'm left with numb legs and a pounding heart.
Anders nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck, the hair bristling my skin as he releases a moan that sounds more animal than human. His body stiffens as his cock throbs, filling me with pulse after pulse of cum.
His grip on my wrists loosens as he comes, and my fingertips run up his back and I feel him shiver slightly as he groans and rolls off of me. “Holy shit, Laney,” he says, his breath ragged and uneven as his hand falls onto his chest. “I meant to pull out, I really did. I'm so—”
“No, don't apologize. I wanted this, I told you I didn't mind, and I meant that.” Rolling onto my side, he scoops me in his arm and pulls me in. “Besides, that was fucking hot,” I say.
“Right,” he agrees with a laugh. “I'm going to feel hungover tomorrow.”
“You and I both.” Reaching up, I twine our fingers together.
We lay naked, sweaty, and out of breath. But this isn't just a man beside me, there's a beast. Every inch of his body is triple the size of mine. And as he holds me firmly in his arms, a feeling of safety and protection and care blankets me from head to toe.
I never got that from my ex, not once did I ever feel this level of safety. I never felt any authentic feeling from him and the only feelings he ever gave me were insecurity, frustration and pain.
But here like this with Anders, I can feel that pain dissolving. I can feel the hurt and the gashes in my heart healing.
Maybe everything I've been going through was for a reason?
Maybe life has been trying to prepare me for something else?
Someone stronger. Someone bolder. Someone who would make my heart come alive, not shrivel up and die.
And as my mind fills with a world of questions, my eyes become heavy and my eyes start to close.
Ding Ding.
The noise jostles me awake. Blinking, I rub my eyes and hear the beeping again. Sitting up, Anders is still naked beside me, partially covered in the sheet from my bed.
We must have just fallen asleep.
The sun is up, shining brightly through the skylights. I'm still in a daze, and I definitely feel like I have a hangover now. Massaging my temples, I yawn wide, trying to cast away the fog in my head.
My phone pings again, so I grab it off the nightstand and check my messages. Reading through them, I sit in shock.
No. No, no, no. He wouldn't do that.
Would he?
Quickly, I call my old neighbor. I'm speaking before she even has time to answer.
“Beth, please tell me he isn't?” Running my hand through my hair, my head begins to pound. “He can't do this! Why would he do this?” My voice is loud, causing Anders to stir next to me.
“I'm sorry, Laney, but he is. He's putting out box after box with your name on it.”
“Stop him! Can't you—” I start to ask, but swiftly realize it's not her problem. “Sorry, Beth, I shouldn't be putting this on you.”
“I'll grab what I can, and I'll put it in my garage.”
“Thank you, Beth, really, thank you so much. I'm on my way.”
Jumping out of bed, I grab my clothes from the floor and wriggle into them quickly, tripping over my own feet and bumping into things. I run out into the living room and start tossing throw blankets and pillows and stacks of paper aside looking for my car keys and purse. Anders appears in the doorway, yawning, and looking at me with surprise and concern.
“What's going on?” he asks.
“Well, it looks like my asshole ex has decided to trash all my stuff. My neighbor Beth
has been texting me. She wanted to let me know he’s putting all my things on the street. She’s going to try to salvage what she can, but I’ve got to get home and make sure the trash collectors don’t take anything. It’s all my work. Irreplaceable art I’ve done over the years. Fuck the clothes, I can buy more, but my work!” The more I speak the more desperate I feel. Where the fuck are my car keys? “I need to go, I'm sorry. I don’t have a minute to waste.”
I finally find my keys on the kitchen counter and make my way to the door, ready to run to my car. Anders comes toward me with his hands out, placing them firmly on my shoulders.
“Steady now. Just hold on.”
“What?” I say, trying to move around him. “Didn’t you hear me? I have to go. Now.”
“I heard you, and I also see the state you’re in. You need to get home, but you can’t drive like this. Give me five minutes to throw on some clothes and I’ll drive you myself. Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking for.”
“No, I can't ask you to do that.”
“You didn't. I offered,” he says. “Besides, the roads are crap, and I have a truck. You'll never make it in your little car. Plus, I can hold a lot in the bed of my truck. We can grab it all without a problem.”
He turns away from me and heads toward the bedroom. I follow him and watch from the doorway as he slides on his jeans and throws his shirt on.
“It is pretty cold out, and it takes the truck a while to warm up, so grab your coat and why don’t you make a couple of cups of coffee for us to take on the road.” All the frenzy I’d felt just a minute before is disappearing. Anders is right. He is also calm and taking me seriously. Suddenly I feel calm, and I follow his instructions. Not because I’m intimidated by him or afraid to contradict him, but because I know his plan is solid and he only wants to help me. But he has work to do. He shouldn't abandon it to help me.
“What about the shower doors?” I call from the kitchen as I put the kettle on to make coffee. “Aren't you worried Marla might show up?”
“Nah, I'll tell her I went for supplies. It's not a problem at all. I can help you.”
Smiling, I nod as I scoop some coffee grinds into the French press and rummage through the cabinets looking for travel mugs. “Thank you, Anders. I really appreciate it.”
Tears well in my eyes with his kindness. No one has ever gone out of their way for me. Not my ex, not any of my friends, no one.
He walks into the kitchen dressed, his face wet, probably from splashing himself with cold water, and he walks up behind me and wraps me in his arms. “I'm happy to. I’ll go start the truck. Just don’t forget those coffees.”
I look over my shoulder to watch him wrestle his large frame into his heavy coat. Snowflakes flutter in as he opens the door to leave. And then he’s gone. But the feelings he gave me; the security, the confidence, the warmth, those are still present. Like a force shield around me, I feel stronger than ever. What felt like an insurmountable battle just minutes before now seems like a mere annoyance.
He has no idea what this means to me.
I won't forget this, and I'll make it up to him.
That's a promise.
8
Anders
She looks so vulnerable sitting beside me. The panic I saw in her when I first woke up this morning is gone, but she’s so quiet. Her hands nervously fumble over each other as we drive to her old place. I can tell she's thinking. Her mind must be rolling with all kinds of emotions.
I just can't tell what they are.
I don't know if she's nervous about her belongings, or if it's the possibility of running into her ex, or maybe it's just being here with me.
I'm trying so hard not to let myself fall for this girl.
It's obvious she's still really upset over her breakup, and it kills me to think I'm just a rebound fuck for her. The thought sends a knife through my gut.
She's not yours. Not yet anyway.
The mountain road is slick, and Laney’s pale as we wind down it. Her knuckles white as she grips the dashboard in front of her. A couple of times we hit some ice and I need to correct the truck, but I know how to drive these roads. My truck might be old, but she's great in the snow. And this treacherous road convinces me even more that I made the right choice insisting I drive her.
As soon as we hit dry pavement, I pull off to the side. “I need to take the chains off.”
Climbing out of the car, I expect her to stay inside where it’s warm, but she surprises me. Laney climbs out and starts to help. Cara never would have done this. She was always too worried about her nails, and the thought of getting dirty made her cringe.
But not Laney. Her hands are under the tires, coming out black from the rubber and dirt. Staring at her for a second, she wipes her hands off on her jeans and then pushes her hair from her face.
She's nothing like Cara. . .
It’s not right to compare Cara and Laney. I knew who Cara was when we first started dating. I fell for her anyway, despite all the red flags. And Laney … well, she’s been exactly who I thought she was since the first night she drunkenly approached me at the bar. I can’t say I understand her completely, but there’s nothing phony about her. She may not be showing me all her cards, but what she has shown me is knocking me off my feet.
Shaking my head, I finish up the last tire and throw the chains into the bed of the truck. She's still so quiet, and her silence is killing me. I don't like seeing her in this type of pain. She doesn't deserve this kind of hurt.
Laney deserves better. And I can give her that. I can give her everything she's looking for. She just needs to let me. And I need to trust enough to let her in.
“You know he doesn't deserve you, right?”
“Hm?” she asks, obviously lost in her own head.
“He doesn't deserve you. You're better than him.”
“Yeah, thanks. Tell that to my confidence, my pride, and my heart.”
“I'm serious. You're an amazing person. Anyone who doesn’t see that isn’t worth your time.”
“You don't even know me.” Her words lash out and hit me in the face.
She's right, I don't know her. But that doesn't mean I can't see her. It doesn't stop me from knowing it deep in my bones.
“Do you still love him?” My voice hinges on one single word, and I have to force it out.
“No, not at all.” Her eyes drift to the window as she says, “I guess it's more that I never saw it coming, and my life isn't turning out the way I thought it would.”
“Life shouldn't be planned. It doesn’t come with a roadmap. Life should find you.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes flick to me, and there's curiosity in her stare.
“I mean, maybe this whole thing was setting you up for something else. Maybe you've come out stronger on other side and just don’t realized it yet.”
“Maybe.” Her voice falls flat as we pull up to her house in Silver Lake. Instantly, her body language changes.
She sits up straight, her hand grabs the handle, and her feet are flat against the floor. Her mouth folds into a heavy frown as she glares out the window.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she says quietly under her breath. “Where is everything? My archives! Everything I own is gone. . .” Her voice is a growl as her teeth clench, and she throws the door open before my tires even have a chance to stop rolling.
Looking through the windshield, I see an empty curb. My stomach drops and I can't see straight. I'm angry instantly.
How could he do this to her after everything he put her through? The question makes my blood boil and muscles tighten.
Clenching the steering wheel, I roll my hands back and forth as the anger consumes me. He has no right to throw her stuff away. He has no right to treat her like this when it's his fault to begin with.
This guy needs his ass kicked, and I'll be happy to do it.
Climbing out, my hands are balled at my sides as I veer my stare at the front door. I'm ready to go knock his
head off his neck. Taking a few steps, I hear a voice call out from behind us.
“Laney, Laney, over here!”
An older woman is waving her arms frantically over her head. She's short, round in the middle, with tight curls in her hair. In a floral top and pleated pants, she reminds me of my grandmother, just a bit younger.
“It's gone, Beth, it's all gone,” Laney says, and I can hear she's trying to hold back tears. Her shoulders roll forward as I watch the life drain out of her.
“Is it?” Beth asks with a little smirk as her eyes dart into her garage.
Coming around the corner, Laney's eyes light up as she spots the piles of boxes. “Did you get all of it? I can't believe you carried in all of that.”
She holds her arms out and Beth embraces her. Laney sniffles as the tears she's been holding in fall in relief.
“We just couldn't get the couch in time, I'm sorry. But, everything else is here.”
“Screw the couch, I don't care about the couch. You're a lifesaver, Beth, seriously.” Laney moves to one of the boxes and opens the top.
She's sifting through, pulling out things. A small easel, paint supplies, more folders with artwork inside. Laney picks through a box of books, and one with clothes. Just as quickly as her tears faded, they come rushing back as she pulls out a small wicker basket.
“It's here, thank God it's here.” Turning to me, teardrops fall off her cheeks as she holds the basket by the handle. “This was my mother's knitting basket.” Her eyes move back to Beth and she lunges forward to hug her again. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Don't just thank me, Dustin helped too.”
A lanky teenager steps out into the garage from inside the house. He can't be more than sixteen or seventeen, with grungy red hair, and a Nirvana t-shirt. He kicks his head to the side, forcing his long hair out of his face. “Hey,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets.
