by Lucia Black
“You were home by nine.” Preston challenged me with his glower before serving himself a slice of pizza.
“Fine.” I took a sip of beer. It was a perfect combination. “I have bad taste in men. That’s why I’m in this situation.”
Preston leaned his shoulder into mine. “Well, that’s easy enough to solve.”
“It is?” I fell against him without even worrying about him pushing me away.
“Absolutely.” He tucked a rogue curl behind my ear, letting his palm linger on my cheek for just a second. “I’m here. Problem solved.”
I laughed and said, “It’s more complicated than that.”
“It’s not.” He took his hand and traced lazy circles on my back. Just that light touch worked out some of my pent-up tension. “If you don’t want to go out on these bad dates, don’t.”
“I have . . . family obligations. It’s just not that simple.”
Too abruptly, Preston sat up and I had to catch myself on the table to keep from falling over once his support was gone. “You have family obligations to date? What, are they like the mafia or something? What year do they live in?”
I strained every muscle in my face trying to keep the shocked expression from showing. So I laughed. “It’s not like that; it isn’t some fifties style scenario where I can’t have a job and I need to marry a man that will take care of me. I mean, look at me. I’m finishing my masters and they know that. They’re proud of me for it. It’s just . . . we’re Italian . . . I don’t know how to explain it.” I took another sip of beer, trying to think of a way to change the subject. When I couldn’t, I gave up and asked, “Tell me something about you.”
Preston shook his head. “Nice segue. But it’s fine. We can change the subject if you want. I know your family is a hot button issue. What do you want to know about me?”
It wasn’t lost on me how quickly Preston just got me. From knowing I didn’t want to talk about my family to showing up when I needed him the most. We shared something that couldn’t be forced; something that was just there.
“I don’t know.” I chuckled, thinking of something clever to ask. “What do you do when you aren’t stalking me?”
“Ouch.” Preston brought his hand to his chest like I offended him. “I’d be more upset if it wasn’t so accurate.”
“Well?”
“Well, I work. I schmooze. I fake-smile for the cameras. It’s not that exciting really.”
“I know what that’s like,” I said under my breath.
“Sorry?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “What about your family? Where are they?”
Tossing his crust to the box, Preston leaned back against the couch and blew out a breath. “On one of their islands, probably. I try to ignore them as much as possible.”
I nudged my plate aside and scooted a couple of inches closer to him. “Why?”
“Because when you’re old money, your family controls quite a bit of your life. I’m in politics because I was groomed for it. Not because I want to be.”
And there it was; the reason our connection was so effortless. We were kindred, even if Preston didn’t know that. “What did you want to be?
“A professional dart player,” he answered without hesitation.
“No, really!” I laughed and swatted his arm playfully.
He tilted his head from side to side as if he were weighing his options. “A bum. Living on a beach. Surfing all day.”
“Stop it; can you even surf?”
Preston let his hand rest on my thigh, then gently started kneading the muscle. “Not at all.”
“What, then? Be real.”
He sighed. “I wanted to go into robotics. Mechanical engineering and medical school. I wanted to work in pediatric orthopedics and prosthetics.”
After he revealed that truth, I understood the flippant answers. The truth was incredibly specific. Preston had really wanted that. He’d put a lot of thought into it, and he couldn’t have it. So to lessen the sting of his reality, he pretended he didn’t care.
I snaked my arm behind his back and tucked my thumb in the waist of his jeans. He took that as his cue to do the same “That’s . . . that’s really beautiful. Why didn’t you?”
“I told you. My family. They’re old money. That isn’t a flashy position for someone with our last name.” He shrugged like he could brush the feeling right off his shoulders. “It’s fine. It is what it is.”
I didn’t know what to say, but Preston respected me when I didn’t want to talk about my family. The least I could do was return the favor. “I’m sure you would’ve been great. But you’d also make an excellent bum. You really missed your calling.”
Preston laughed. “See? I knew you’d see my appeal and potential.”
“I do . . .”
Preston raised his eyebrows and stared at me. The look in his eyes, his complete honesty, everything we had in common. I fucked up again. I let things go too far and I didn’t know if we’d be able to recover this time.
I climbed to my feet. “Thanks so much for this, Preston. I needed it, but I think I need to call it a night.”
The disappointment was etched all over his face, but he nodded and stood up anyway. “Alright.”
I walked him to the door, wishing desperately things were different. “Really, thank you for tonight. It . . . it meant a lot to me.”
“Me too.”
I held the door open and he stopped in the doorway. He turned around to say something, but no words came out. He just looked at me. We stood there staring at each other, the intensity between us growing, not knowing how much time was passing.
“Preston—”
He grabbed my waist and pulled my body against his as he kissed me fiercely.
I pulled him inside and slammed the door.
Chapter 13
As soon as the door closed, Preston spun us around and pinned me against it with more force than I expected. His mouth covered mine, kissing me with abandon. I wrapped my arms around his neck, reciprocating in fevered passion. He broke away; moving his lips everywhere, across my cheek, down my neck, and over my collarbone. When my head spun with the frenzy and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, Preston slowed his pace. He pressed a long, sweet kiss to my lips. Just when I thought I could catch my breath, Preston slipped his tongue into my mouth, begging me to open myself to him again.
I moaned at the intrusion. Preston took that as encouragement and deepened the kiss, thrusting his hips against mine. Hard. Then again. And again. My whole body thumped into the door, rocking it in its frame.
Between the desire I’d felt for Preston since the day we met, and the pure savageness radiating off him, I could’ve had an orgasm right then. He must’ve sensed it, felt my labored breath, and the way I pulled him even closer with each thrust. He stopped, gently pressing himself into me. He rested his forehead against mine, his eyes closed.
“Tell me you want me. Tell me you want me the way I want you,” he said, opening his eyes to look at me in earnest as he awaited my answer.
I stared into his wild blue gaze, I drank in the masculine scent of his cologne, I studied the intricate lines to his face, and nothing else in that moment mattered.
“I want you,” I breathed, my lungs still fighting for air.
Preston growled. He dug his hands in my hair and pulled my face into another crushing kiss. Whether it was him or me I wasn’t sure, but the next thing I knew we were walking, still connected at the lips. With Preston’s hands in my hair, I reached under his shirt. I started at his pecs and pressed my palms into the hard muscles. I slowly dragged my hands over his abs, and then even lower, just barely dipping my fingers under the waistband of his pants.
We stumbled through the living room, bumping into the couch and a floor lamp as we moved. I needed more of him. I stopped kissing him long enough to tug his shirt up over his head. Satisfied that he let me, I reached for his pants. I wanted them off. I wanted to see all of him. Preston stopped me.<
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He pushed me into the hall just outside my bedroom and up against the wall. We kissed, just as feverishly as before, but this time Preston took my hands, lifted them above my head, and held them at the wrist in his left hand.
“Not yet.” He breathed the words in my ear. “I want you naked before I take anything else off.”
I trembled, suddenly very aware of the fact that I had nothing on under my dress. There would be no easing into my nudity, no going from clothed to underwear to naked. I loved my body. I loved its bumps, flaws, and scars— but knowing that Preston was going to have a full view in just a few seconds sent a pit in my stomach.
I nodded anyway.
Keeping my hands above my head, Preston latched his lips to my neck and nibbled at the sensitive skin. I fought against his hold. I wanted to touch him, I wanted to shove my hand down his pants and feel the weight of him against my hand, but I couldn’t. Instead, I bucked my hips against his, trying to find some friction for my aching clit.
When I felt like I couldn’t possibly take a second more, Preston reached down to the hem of my dress with his free hand, pulled it up, and cupped my sex in his palm.
“No panties?” he said in surprise, a smile playing on his lips.
I shook my head, unable to do anything else. Preston used his knee to nudge my legs further apart then ran a finger against my wet folds.
He pushed his finger inside. Then another. Then another.
My knees buckled and if he wasn’t holding me up I would’ve collapsed to the floor. He pressed his body against mine, kissing my neck and jaw as he brought me to closer to release. My desire taking over, I ground myself into his hand needing more friction. Preston worked his fingers in and out of me at a steady pace, then teasingly pressed the meat of his palm against my clit as he did.
I was losing control, so close, and I could hardly see straight. I felt my breath catch; my fingers clawed at his wrists to escape his hold and my legs began to quiver. My entire body tensed, and he pushed his fingers in further, then twisted to find that patch of sensitive flesh that sent me over the edge. I felt the spasms of pleasure as they rocked through me. I cried out in ecstasy as I surprised us both and poured into his hand.
“That was incredibly sexy,” he whispered in my ear, his voice husky and deep.
“I, uh . . . I didn’t know I could do that,” I admitted, my words coming out jarred and breathless.
“I’m going to make you do that again.” God, I wanted him to.
I stood against the wall on shaky legs as he pulled out of me. He let go of my wrists and my arms came to wrap around his neck. I kissed him, and he grabbed my thighs, hoisting me up to carry me to the bedroom.
He sat on the edge of my bed with me straddled over him, never breaking our kiss. I could feel his cock, hard and ready, pressed into me. I didn’t have a single reservation anymore. I wanted to be naked. I wanted Preston to see me naked. I sat back and pulled the dress off in a second flat and tossed it aside like trash, like I’d never need clothes again.
As soon as it came off, he wrapped his arms around my back and buried his face in my breasts, sucking and kissing one, and then the other. He brought a hardened peak to his mouth and sucked deeply as he teased the other nipple. I let my head fall back to focus on the feeling, soft moans escaping my mouth as I did.
I panted. “Preston, please. I need you inside me.”
He groaned against my chest and stood up, turning us around and laying me down on the bed. My heart hammered so loudly in my chest I was worried the neighbors could hear. I’d never known the meaning of the word anticipation until that moment. I had never wanted anyone so much.
I reached between us, feeling his bulge and pulling at his jeans to unzip them and take them off. But he pulled away, using his hands to push my legs apart as he kneeled between them.
“Not yet. I want to taste you.”
I wanted to protest. I wanted to tell him I didn’t need one second more of foreplay, but then he kissed my inner thighs and my head lulled back. He slowly licked around my folds, pushing my legs further apart until he had me exposed and open. Then with great purpose, he lapped at my clit, pressing against it with his tongue, and sucking it into his mouth.
I felt my orgasm already building and my legs began to shake. He plunged two fingers inside me, curling them up and massaging my G-spot as he flicked at the sensitive nub he’d taken between his lips. “Oh my god,” I moaned. I reached down, grabbing his hair and holding him there so he wouldn’t stop. He growled and picked up his pace, stroking his fingers in and out of me. Just when he felt me tipping over the edge, he pulled his hand away, fully taking my clit into his mouth and sucking hard.
My legs stiffened and I let go of his hair, my back arching off the bed as I grabbed at the sheets beside me. His hands slid underneath my backside and gripped my tightly as he sucked. I screamed as I came, the sensation sending shockwaves through my body.
I lay there unable to move as ripples and aftershocks from the orgasm moved through me. I didn’t know where Preston had gone or what he was doing but I didn’t have the strength to lift my head and look.
The bed dipped with added weight and Preston hovered over me. I grabbed his face and brought it to mine, opening my mouth for his. He let out a deep moan as I tasted myself on his tongue. I reached between us, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his length free. I flattened my palm and rubbed it against his hard cock. I wrapped my hand around his thick girth, stroking him up and down.
He leaned back, pulling me with him to the edge of the bed. He took his pants off, pushing them away with his foot.
“Turn over,” he whispered.
My hopes fell. Doggie style? He could read the disappointment on my face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. It’s just—it’s not a great position for . . . me . . . getting off,” I said, feeling greedy that my two orgasms weren’t enough.
A wicked grin spread across his face. “Turn over. I told you I was going to make you do that thing again, didn’t I? It was too sexy. I have to do it again.”
I bit my lower lip and gave him a coy smile.
“Promise?”
He growled and flipped me over, guiding my hips toward him. He teased me, rubbing his tip over my opening, moving the slickness of my fluids around. I leaned down on my elbows, sticking my ass in the air more, swaying my hips in anticipation.
He entered me slowly, only pushing himself in a few inches, moving in and out at a gently, steady rhythm, never fully penetrating me. He reached around and found my clit, rubbing it in smooth, wide circles. “Oh my god . . . what . . . are you doing . . . to me,” I whimpered, gripping my hair in my hands. I couldn’t understand how something so simple and slow felt so incredibly intense, teasing me and winding me up until I felt like I would burst. My core tightened and my inner walls fluttered, an orgasm mounting behind every little thrust.
A guttural moan escaped from deep in my throat as the sensation held me on the edge of release. Just as I began to come, Preston grabbed my hips and slammed into me, stretching me with his thickness. I cried out and fisted the sheets as he fucked me hard and fast, drawing my pleasure out as I came with back-to-back earth-shattering orgasms.
I panted into the sheets and he slowed his pace. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he reached around and pinched my clit as he pushed himself into me fully. I came again, my sex clenching tightly around his cock as I once again poured into his hand. Letting go, he growled a satisfied “yes” and thrust in and out of me as I rode out the waves of pleasure. He grunted as he found his release moments later.
He stilled, my inner walls fluttering against him as he twitched inside me. When he pulled out, I fell forward, rolling over and pushing my sweaty hair from my face, trying to catch my breath.
He disappeared into my bathroom and came back with towels, putting one down on the bed where I’d left a rather large wet spot. He handed me one and I reached out to
take it as he laid down beside me.
“I think I just ruined my bed. And maybe the carpet in my hallway . . .” I finally said.
He laughed. “I’ll buy you a new bed.”
“That was . . .” I trailed off.
“Yeah. That was,” he said.
I rolled over and he let me curl into him, holding me as I relished the lingering euphoria. He pulled the covers over us and kissed the top of my head. I closed my eyes, letting sleep take me.
Chapter 14
For the first time, maybe in my whole life, I woke up feeling completely rested. The sunbeams filtered in from the partially opened curtains. I stretched like a cat and then rolled onto my side.
Preston was sprawled out next to me, taking up most of the space in the bed. I had stolen all the covers, leaving his naked body exposed. I took a moment to appreciate his physique. He looked younger in his sleep, his face at peace, not worrying about his family or thinking of something witty to say.
I reached over to brush his hair out of his eyes but then pulled my fingers back as if I’d been shocked. He wasn’t mine. Even if he was in my bed, he’d never be mine. That would’ve been too intimate of a gesture.
Last night was a mistake. I replayed the highlight reel in my mind and blushed. It was a massive, colossal mistake that left me completely satisfied and excited about someone else for the first time. I didn’t know what I was going to do, telling him the truth felt like an impossible task, even though I knew he was going to find out eventually.
And the worst part was a lot of my attraction to Preston was his ability to always be so honest with me. I was a liar. Or at least I kept truths from him. That was just as bad, if not worse.
Preston rolled over and reached for me, eyes still closed.
“You’re a blanket hog.” He lifted the comforter to reach under and pull me closer, covering himself in the process.
“Sorry. I was cold.”
We shifted into a spooning position, me fitting snugly into him as the little spoon. I felt him growing hard as he pressed into my backside. All I wanted was to turn around and take him inside me again, but instead, I found the willpower to climb out of bed giving the excuse I needed to go to the bathroom, even though he grumbled in protest, reaching into the empty space I left.
