by Staci Hart
I gasped, heart slamming, nails scrabbling for purchase against the leather couch cushion, my face buried between my clenching hands.
“Please,” I groaned. “Fuck, Bodie. Please. Please.”
He said nothing, and I couldn’t look, not with starbursts flashing behind my pinched lids.
I felt his wet fingers move up and then his thumb, now somehow wet too.
It was so slick, so smooth, that it didn’t even give me pause when he circled the tight hole I rarely let anyone near.
His thumb gently ran across me, his fingers stroking my pussy at the same speed, same pace, the pressure increasing until he flexed his fingers and slid into me, both holes at once.
I raised off his lap, my mouth hanging open, my breath frozen in my lungs, but he didn’t stop. He stroked me, played my body, pushed every button, even buttons I hadn’t known I had. His fingers performed some exquisite gymnastics that I’d be thinking about for a decade, though in the moment I didn’t care how he was doing it, only that he didn’t stop. Ever. His pinkie rocked against my clit as the rest of his hand fucked me with tender determination.
The deeper he went, the harder he went, the less control I had. Part of me wondered if I’d ever had any at all.
I couldn’t even move, just laid there on his lap with my ass in the air. My hands moved to his leg under me, gripping his jeans, bracing myself.
“Come on, Penny,” he said roughly, begging. “Come, so I can fuck you.”
His hand flexed again, and three pressure points that he pressed screamed.
“That’s right. Come on. Come for me.”
Another flex. My heart strained against my ribs.
“F-f-fuck,” I groaned as my body orgasmed, not a single thing in my control. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whispered against the leather of the couch cushion with every pulse of my body, full in every possible way and nowhere near full enough.
“Thank God,” he breathed. A flurry of motion, he moved my limp body off his lap, put my knees on the ground, and moved behind me, kneeling between my legs.
I barely possessed any awareness of my surroundings, not until he grabbed my hips and slipped into me from behind, hitting my G-spot like he fucking had radar for it.
“Fuck!” I cried, sliding my hands into the back of the cushion to hang on as the orgasm I’d thought was gone got a second wind.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Penny,” he growled as he pounded me.
His hand twisted in my hair and pulled. My orgasm thundered back to life with every pump of his hips. I didn’t even know how — it just wouldn’t stop, rolling through me like it would never end. My body was on fire, writhing and wriggling and flexing and contracting as he slammed into me over and over again, finally coming with a moan, a cry, a shudder, and jackhammering hips that hit the end of me so hard that I couldn’t breathe.
I don’t even know how we came down or how long it took or what happened after that — I blacked out from bliss.
When I regained a fraction of my senses, I found myself lying on the rug, tucked into Bodie’s side, both of us still fully clothed other than his unbuckled pants, condom still on.
I didn’t even remember him putting it on, and the fact that it hadn’t even crossed my mind when he was nailing me from behind freaked me out. But only for a second. Lucky for me, he was a trustworthy guy, and he had been since high school. Maybe it hadn’t crossed my mind because I did trust him.
That foreign thought freaked me out too.
I didn’t have too long to contemplate it before Bodie seemed to reconnect his wires, turning to look down at me with a smile.
“So,” I started, the word lazy, “if you tell me you earned your nickname by fucking girls like that in high school, I’m really going to be burned about missing that shot.”
He chuckled and ran his hand down my arm. “Trust me — that was not the case. Roddy started it. First I was D, and Jude was Judie. Then D evolved into Diddle and Judie to Dee Dee. The nickname had nothing to do with anything other than him trying to humiliate me. I didn’t see a vagina in real life until college.”
“Really?” I asked wondrously, nestling into his side a little more.
“Yeah, really. I mean, you saw me. When it came to my friends, I had a mouth and confidence to beat their asses at literally anything, but I didn’t have the courage to really talk to girls. You and I were around each other enough that I could have. I should have.”
“We talked,” I offered.
“Yeah, but not like that. I just didn’t think I had a chance. Not then.”
My heart sank. I wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but at sixteen, I had been looking for guys like Rodney — fast car, fast hands. Hell, I didn’t know how different I was now. The thought made me feel even worse.
So instead of arguing, I curled deeper into his side.
His arm flexed in answer.
“College was … fun then?”
“You could say that.” I could hear him smiling as he continued, “It probably wouldn’t have been, if not for surfing.”
“Yeah, what’s the story with that? I don’t remember you surfing in high school.”
“That’s because I didn’t. My dad tried to get me and Jude to surf with him from the minute we could swim, and we did a little when we were kids, but once we hit junior high, we were more interested in playing D&D in the basement than sports. I blame the whole reject-what-your-parents-want idea. They’re total hippies. I mean, they supplied weed to half the high school like it was fucking milk and cookies.”
I laughed. “Your mom made a mean edible. She’d put her vegan cookies in those little sandwich baggies with a ribbon on it and smile and pat your cheek when she gave it to you. Half the time, she wouldn’t even let us pay.”
“It’s funny now, but I was so embarrassed. How I didn’t turn out to be a burnout is beyond me.” He was still smiling, fingertips tracing circles on my back. “Anyway, before we left for college, Dad finally convinced us to surf with him for the summer, and Jude and I figured it was the old man’s last chance to hang with us before we were gone. We fell in love with it and went at least once a day in college. We were those crazy fuckers, freezing our asses off at five a.m. so we could get a good session in before class.”
“I love that,” I said, imagining Bodie running into the ocean in slo-mo with a board under his arm. “And then came the girls?”
“If I’d realized just how many girls, I’d have picked up surfing way sooner. Maybe then I could have stolen you away from Rod — that dick.”
“Ugh, he really was. Is?”
“Is. We’re still friends on social media. His Snapchat makes me want to fucking vomit.”
I felt squirmy at the mention of Rodney. We weren’t friends anywhere, not after he’d stretched my heart out to the point that it lost its shape.
I changed the subject. “Hey, I hate to ask, but I was so antsy to get over here that I didn’t eat after work. Do you have anything? I’m not picky. Popcorn will do. Cold cuts. Hot Pockets. Whatever you’ve got.”
“Yeah. We’ve got some frozen pizzas, I think.”
“Mmm. Totino’s?” I asked as we got up.
“Red Baron.”
“I’ll take what I can get, I guess.”
He laughed and headed back toward the bathroom, fooling around between his legs as he walked. “Gimme one second.”
“Take your time,” I said, my eyes on his ass, the top of which was exposed from his unfastened pants.
He disappeared into the bathroom, and I sat down at the island in the middle of the kitchen, leaning on the counter, musing.
My body purred like a kitten, thanks to him, and I found myself fluttery and smiley and absolutely happy. Bodie was good and he was fun and he was perfect. And I knew I was going to miss him when he was gone.
One more date, max.
I loathed the notion. I loathed it so deeply that I felt sick at the thought of not seeing him again.
He walked back
in before I could think twice about it, smiling that goddamn smile that made my vagina spell his name in Morse code. I pushed my feelings away. I’d live in the moment. It was what I did best.
Bodie opened up the freezer and moved things around for a minute. “Bad news. No pizza.”
I frowned. “What have you got?”
More shuffling.
“A bag of peas, a half a bag of crinkle fries, and some popsicles with freezer burn.”
My frown deepened.
He closed the door and turned to lean on the other side of the island. “We could order one?”
“That’ll take forever and I’m starving. What are the odds of a PB and J?”
He smirked. “Pretty good. Just depends on your jelly preference.”
“Grape or strawberry?” I asked. This was a test.
He narrowed his eyes, recognizing the challenge. “Strawberry.”
“Good. If you’d said grape, the whole deal would have been off.”
He laughed and moved around the kitchen, gathering supplies.
“Wait, it’s smooth peanut butter, right?”
He shot me a look over his shoulder from the pantry. “Of course. We’re not animals, Penny.”
“Thank God. Proper PB and J has universal rules that must be honored.”
He laid everything out on the island between us. “So, how did you get into the tattoo business?”
“Well, I was always into art, you remember?”
He nodded as he set four slices of bread out on a cutting board.
“After graduation and Rodney dumping me, I just had to get out of Santa Cruz. My aunt lived here in Manhattan, so I crashed with her. She was tatted up like crazy. I went with her to get a few at Joel’s shop, and when I was waiting for her one time, sketching, Joel asked if he could take a look. I’d never considered the profession until he asked me if I’d be interested.”
Bodie smiled. “Kismet.”
I folded my hands on the countertop. “It kinda was. He gave me my first tattoo. This one.” I turned to show him the piece on my shoulder and upper arm. “Joel … he’s like a big brother to everyone at the shop, and he brought most of us in as apprentices and taught us everything he knows, which is a lot.”
“Like a big brother … not a big boyfriend?” Bodie asked, still smiling.
I laughed. “Oh, definitely not. He’s not my type, and plus, he’s engaged to the producer of our reality show, Annika.”
His hand stilled, peanut butter knife hanging midair. “Reality show?”
Another laugh. “I thought you might have known. Don’t watch much TV?”
He shook his head. “You’re on TV?”
“I am. It’s a reality show — Tonic, named after the shop where we work. Real original, I know. We’re about to start filming season two.”
His head was still shaking. “That’s crazy. What’s that like?”
I shrugged. “It’s fun. Kind of weird having cameras in your face all the time, but I don’t mind. Last season was drama though — Annika was kind of a bitch. She lied to Joel before she made it up to him, and he ended up putting a ring on it. I wanted to rip her face off for doing him wrong, but she’s like nine feet tall and Russian, so I’m pretty sure she’d beat my ass. I’ve got a real big bark though.”
He slathered on the peanut butter and opened the jelly jar. “I remember that bark very well.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I guess the Rodney breakup wasn’t super private.”
“I’m pretty sure every parent and student in the audience heard what you had to say about him dumping you at graduation.”
I felt myself blush. “Well, he deserved every word.”
“No arguments here. You guys used to fight like crazy.”
“Because he drove me crazy. Like, on purpose. I swear, he kept me just close enough to keep me coming back for more and far enough away that I never felt like he was really mine.”
Bodie didn’t speak for a second as he spread strawberry jelly over the peanut butter, all the way to the edges, like a good boy.
“Think he’s why you don’t date?” he asked, his face still.
I chuffed. “I don’t think. I know.” I thought about it, feeling my willpower turn into steel at the thought of Rodney. “Here’s the thing, Bodie. When I love, I don’t do it halfway. I go all the way into the fire until it burns me up. It’s obsessive. I lost myself once to someone else, and I’m not doing it again.”
He nodded and closed one sandwich, then the other. “You sure it wasn’t just Rod?”
I shrugged. “Not really interested in finding out.”
“So you’ve never felt the urge to stick with a guy, even without commitment?” He sliced our dinner into triangles and plated them.
I squirmed, and he saw it.
“I’m not asking for myself, Penny. I’m just curious.”
I sighed. “If I’m being honest? No. I used to, and I’ve tried to, which only reinforced my belief that relationships aren’t for me. It’s just fun, and I don’t need any more commitment than that. I’m committed to my job. I have my girlfriends, and they wouldn’t hurt me. I don’t need a man to be happy. I just need a man for my vagina to be happy, but that bitch doesn’t run my life.”
He laughed at that and handed my plate over. “Want something to drink?”
“Just water, thanks.”
“I’ve really only done flings too,” he said as he made his way around the kitchen. “I mean, there were a few girls I dated for a while, but nothing serious. Just never turned into more. Know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s so hard when you’re different people or you have different expectations. But sometimes there’s just no connection. Like when they don’t get your jokes — that’s the worst. Or they just go straight to stage five clinger.”
He chuckled and set our glasses in front of us. “It was so weird when I first started dating because I had no idea what I was doing. Like, I had no experience, so I thought I was supposed to woo, date, and fall in love with every woman I was interested in, so I tried. But then I realized that chicks were like guys sometimes too. That dating is not about wooing and love. It’s all about expectations, you know? Like some girls really do want full commitment with a ring in the future, or it’s nothing. But that’s such a weird thing to expect when you’re nineteen.”
I picked up one triangle of my sandwich. “I mean, seriously. People don’t know how to live in the now. Why do we all have to have some five-year plan that won’t even be possible to follow? Life doesn’t work that way. Everything is fluid.”
I took a bite and moaned as my eyes rolled back in my head. “I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t had one of these in forever or because I’m starving, but this is incredible.”
He smiled at me as he chewed and swallowed. “It’s the peanut-butter-to-jelly ratio.”
“You and your math,” I said with a shake of my head and a smile on my lips, wondering why he had to be so funny and smart and hot and amazing. It wasn’t even fair. “The only time I love math is when it’s coming out of your mouth.”
His smile climbed on one side. “What’s sixty-nine plus sixty-nine?”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to sort it out.
“Dinner for four.”
I laughed and took another bite.
“I’m like pi — really long and I go on forever.”
More laughing, lips closed, chasing it with a sip of water so I wouldn’t choke.
He leaned on the counter, still smirking at me. “I’m not obtuse; you’re acute chick.”
“Okay, that one was bad.” I kept stuffing my face now that the hunger switch had been flipped.
“What do math and my dick have in common?”
My brow rose as I swallowed.
“They’re both hard for you.”
That time, I laughed hard enough that I snorted.
Bodie set down his sandwich and dusted off his hands. The look in his eyes made me take one more bit
e, a big one that I chewed hastily, figuring dinner might be over.
“Can I plug my solution into your equation?” he asked, voice low and smile crooked as he rounded the island.
“I dunno. Can you?”
“Maybe I can be your math tutor for the night.” He spun me around on the stool. “Add a bed.” His hands slipped up my thighs, opening them. “Subtract your clothes.” His hands moved higher until they rested in the bend of my hips. “Divide your legs.” He nestled between my legs, angling for my lips. “And multiply.”
I wanted to laugh, but when he kissed me, I forgot what was so funny.
* * *
Bodie
Obsessed— that was what I was.
Obsessed with her salty, sweet lips against mine.
Obsessed with her milky-white thighs around my waist.
Obsessed with her silky purple hair between my fingers.
Obsessed with her.
I’d been kissing her for long enough that she was panting, and my heart was thundering like a racehorse.
She was perfect — other than the fact that she didn’t want to date me. Yet.
I broke away, leaving her sitting on the stool with her eyes still shut and her lips parted like they were waiting for me.
“I want you naked,” I growled as I reached behind me to pull off my shirt.
When I looked down at her, her eyes were half open as she fumbled with the zipper on her skirt.
I dropped my pants and stepped out of them, grabbed her by the waist to lift her up and set her down hard enough that her ass slapped against the surface of the counter with a pop and a yelp.
My hands moved up her waist and under her Ramones shirt, pushing it up and over her head. Her lavender hair spilled out of the neck like a waterfall, and I tossed the shirt behind me. She reached for my face, pulling me to her for another kiss, and I lost myself in her hot mouth for a long moment — until she shifted, pressing her wet pussy against my shaft.
