by Zoe Norman
I don’t know how much more of this I can take. “Owen…” I breathe out.
I look over my shoulder at him, my eyes pleading for relief. He drops to his knees behind me, grasping the tops of my thighs and pulling me toward his mouth, until his tongue finds its target. The combination of the anticipation that has been building and the way he eats me like I’m his last meal, makes me gasp and involuntarily I allow my legs to spread wider.
“I’ve missed this, Liv,” he says against my pulsating lower lips. “So fucking good…”
As much fun as tonight has been, I’m so happy to have my man back. His fingers tightly grip my hips as he moves back and forth, his tongue sliding from my clit to my ass and back again. Anxious for release, I move my hand down my stomach and start to play with my clit as he fucks me with his tongue, feasting on me. I’m so close, my one hand rubbing...rubbing...his tongue lapping—oh God, his tongue. I reach out with my other hand, trying to grip the edge of the breakfast bar, but it’s too far away. Suddenly, he stops. What?
“Owen, no!” I protest.
He leans forward and kisses my back, the head of his cock nudging my opening before he slides right in. I’m so wet and he’s so hard. This will be effortless despite his size.
On a grunt, he plunges forward and I yell out at the expected yet unexpected fullness. “Oh God, baby! OH God!” I scream.
He grabs my hips and goes to town with a punishing rhythm that drives me higher and higher. I crest and fall with an almost painful orgasm, shouting out his name. He doesn’t relent. Instead, he keeps pounding into me. This will be a multiple-orgasm fuck, and I am so ready for it.
His hands grab the crooks of my elbows and pulls me against him with each thrust. I arch my back, my breasts bouncing with every hard, ruthless stroke.
“Baby, I wish we were taping this shit. You look so fucking hot I can’t stand it. I want to watch it over and over,” he grunts as he continues to slam into me.
His hand comes around my waist and pulls me upright, tightly flush to his chest. Then he wraps an arm around my chest and starts to pump up into me. My God, he’s so deep.
“It’s been too damn long, Olivia. Too damn long since I’ve been inside you,” he says through clenched teeth.
He drops one hand, finding my clit and rubbing it in tight, little circles. He applies just the right amount of pressure, and I explode again. He doesn’t stop though. He just continues his assault.
“I’m so fucking close, baby. Come with me. Come with me.” This isn’t an order; it’s a plea.
I feel him swelling inside me, so I reach back, wrapping my arm around his neck. I’m climbing, climbing, and when I feel his moves begin to stagger and lose their even rhythm, I let go. “Ughhhh!” I yell as he plunges into me hard, fast and deep, grunting out a garbled version of my name and a slew of curses.
Owen continues to fuck me as he spills himself inside me, pushing us forward so we fall onto the counter. Laying my head down on the cool granite, I try to catch my breath. Owen’s damp cheek rests on my bare back, his pants of breath hot against my skin. He continues to twitch inside me, his orgasm prolonged likely due to how long it’s been since we’ve had sex. He can’t move, but he turns his head slightly and kisses my back.
“I missed you so much, baby. Thank you for playing my little game tonight. Did you have fun?”
“I think it’s pretty evident that I had a fan-fuckin-tastic time. I needed this. We needed this,” he says, still trying to even out his breathing. “I love you. So much. But don’t tell my live-in girlfriend about this, okay?” he jokes, kissing my back.
I let out a giggle. “I won’t as long as you promise not to tell my live-in boyfriend. He’d be very upset.”
Owen pulls out on a groan, and as I stand, he turns me around and pulls me into his arms, squeezing me tight against his firm chest.
“I love you, Owen. Love you. Love you. Love you,” I murmur into his chest.
He leans down and kisses me sweetly before guiding me back to our bedroom so we can collapse together and finally go to sleep.
PART OF BEING A couple is that you go out and do ‘couple’ things with ‘couple’ friends. Luckily for Olivia and me, we have our go-to couple, Tanner and Laney. Olivia takes great pride in the fact that she has set up her assistant, Laney, with my buddy, Tanner. Laney is a petite, black-haired, little waif of a thing, and Tanner is a tall, tatted, beastly man. They’re an interesting-looking couple, but it seems to be working for them.
I’m happy for the guy. Tanner is my best friend here in Brooklyn and he always has my back—inside and outside of work. We were each other’s wingman when we hit the clubs in our single days. He has some serious shit on me, as I do on him, so that automatically bonds us for life. I’ve known Tanner for going on six years and I’ve never seen him this settled. He smiles more, is more jovial and relaxed. I attribute that to sex—lots and lots of sex. At least that’s what has worked for me.
Laney spoke with Olivia earlier in the week about getting together and asked us to meet up with she and Tanner at The Hook n’ Ladder, a local bar where a lot of firemen frequent. Tanner and I were regulars there back in the day—God, that sounds douchey, but it’s the truth.
Olivia is looking hot as ever in some tight, dark jeans and a light, knit, grey sweater that hugs her boobs perfectly. She’d look hot in a dirty burlap sack, but when she gets dressed up, I have a hard time controlling myself. Add to that, she’s wearing the perfume I love so much. It’s a scent that is clean with a hint of citrus, and it’s distinctly Olivia. She tells me that my cologne has the same effect on her, but her scent makes me want to find a quiet corner, stairwell, or alleyway and drop trou, ready to please her. The entire ride over to the bar, I’m talking my dick down from trying to attack the woman.
When Olivia and I exit the cab outside of the bar, I catch a whiff of her perfume. Fuck. Me. I’m already looking for a discreet spot to bury myself inside her.
I greet Sherman, the brute of a bouncer at the bar, with a nod and usher Olivia in ahead of me. Right away, Olivia spots Laney at the back of the bar, and we make our way through the rows of tables and chairs toward our friends. I say hello to a table of guys from another firehouse and follow their gazes as they unashamedly check out Olivia. Eat your heart out, assholes. She’s mine.
“Looking lovely as always, Laney.” I greet her with a smile and place a chaste peck on her cheek.
Tanner does the same with Olivia while I round the table to give him a firm handshake. The ladies fawn over each other’s outfits and sit next to each other, already talking about the new rose-gold bangle bracelet I gave Olivia for completing and publishing her latest research. She worked hard on that project, and I felt she deserved something special to show her how proud I am of her.
“Sorry to interrupt the little gab session, ladies, but what are you drinking tonight, Liv?”
Olivia eyes the chalk-written menu above the bar as if looking for divine inspiration. She usually orders a mojito but surprises me by ordering a Purple Haze.
I lift my eyebrows in disbelief. “My lady is full of surprises.” I smile wickedly.
“Just you wait, Maxwell,” Olivia flirts, sliding her tongue back and forth on her upper lip.
God, I love this woman.
“One Purple Haze, coming up.”
Tanner gets Laney’s drink order before he and I head to the bar to place our orders and talk to our friend, Archie, who manages the bar.
“Ar-chie!” Tanner shouts loudly across the long, mahogany bar top.
Tanner’s voice has a heavy Brooklyn accent and it reminds me of Rocky calling for Adrian. I chuckle to myself and raise my hand to say hello to our friend who’s taking an order from a customer down at opposite side of the bar.
Archie turns at the sound of his name. He smiles and lifts his chin, acknowledging us before finishing with his customer “Gentleman!” he calls out as he walks toward us. “Nice of you to grace my humble bar with your presen
ce this evening.” He grins. “What’ll it be?”
“I’ll take a Purple Haze and—”
“That’s a little girly for you, don’t you think, Maxwell?” Archie jokes, cutting me off.
“Funny, fucker.” I snort. “It’s for my girl,” I say, nodding my head in the direction of our table, where Olivia and Laney are laughing and talking close about something…or someone.
Archie stretches his neck to see who I’m referring to. “Ah! I see you’re back with the brunette beauty again. Good! You were one fucking asshole the last time you were in here drinking your sorrows away.”
I wince. “Yeah,” I say, my smile quickly disappearing as I recall that night. I look at Tanner, who gives me a weak, knowing smile. “That wasn’t such a good night for me.”
“Meh, I don’t know. It turned out all right for you if I recall.” Archie smirks.
“So, anyway,” Tanner interrupts to, thankfully, change the subject, “I’ll take a Mucho Mango martini, and a Mac & Jack’s for me. Owen?”
I snap my head back toward Archie. “A Purple Haze and two fingers of the Glenmorangie 18 year old for me.”
“Sure thing, boss. I’ll bring them over in a bit.”
I pull out my wallet to pay for the drinks, but Archie puts his hand up to stop me. “Your money’s no good here, Maxwell.”
I nod in appreciation, and Archie does the same before turning to fill our orders.
Tanner and I turn toward our table, both not talking about the incident that went down last time we were both here. It’s better if I put that night behind me. As we walk back to the girls, Laney is wiping tears from her eyes from laughing so hard.
“And what is so funny?” I ask with a curious look.
“Oh, you know. Just girl talk,” Olivia says with a guilty lilt to her voice.
“Okay, you can have your secrets if I can have mine,” I reply with a playful wink.
Olivia’s brows furrow and she stops laughing. “Do you have secrets from me?” she asks.
“Here you go!” Archie calls out, resting his serving tray on the table. He slides the cocktails to the ladies first. The beer goes to Tanner before Archie finally hands me my scotch.
We take our glasses and Tanner raises his for a toast. “Here's to that which goes in hard and stiff and comes out soft and wet.”
“Oh my God!” Olivia snickers as Laney covers her eyes with her free hand, looking slightly embarrassed by her boyfriend.
I, of course, think it’s the funniest toast ever and laugh heartily while patting Tanner on the back.
“What?” Tanner laughs. “I was talking about bubblegum, you horny women!”
The table erupts into raucous laughter, which helps to set the tone for a fun night.
The women fall into a lively discussion about some office gossip while Tanner and I discuss his newest tattoo, a roaring lion. He lifts up the side of this T-shirt, showing me the work in progress. We talk about his tattoo artist while I admire the detail and depth of the black-and-white shading.
“When are you getting your tattoo, Maxwell? You keep talking about it but never act on it. Man up! Grow a set of balls and get it done, you pussy,” Tanner taunts.
“Yeah, yeah.” I laugh.
He’s right. I have been talking about getting ink for a while now, and I’ve been struggling with what to get. My thoughts range from the Rescue Company mascot of a bulldog to something as simple as ‘Mom.’ Whatever it is, it’ll be on my body for the rest of my life, so I want the tattoo to mean something.
Olivia’s ears perk up as she listens in on the conversation I’m having with Tanner. “Hang on one second, Laney.” She pauses her conversation. “You’re thinking of getting a tattoo, Owen? You better hope it says ‘Olivia Forever’ or some iteration of that!” She tries her best to look irritated but is unable to mask her smile.
“Well, there goes that surprise,” I say sarcastically, and we all fall into a fit of laughter. “No, seriously. I’ve been kicking around the idea. I just… I want it to mean something. It’ll be there when I’m seventy-five and I want to be able to tell my grandkids about its meaning. Something that’s significant. Once I figure out what that is, I’ll get the ink.” I toss back the last of my scotch and slam my empty glass back on the wood table.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful, stud, and go get me another drink?” Olivia smiles, scooting her empty drink over to me.
I stand and lean over, kissing Olivia firmly on the mouth. “Your wish is my command.”
Juggling fresh drinks in my hands, I approach our table and am met with cheers from the women. I love being a hero. I divvy out the drinks while Olivia and Laney get back to fawning over a hot “book boyfriend.” Whatever the hell that is.
I take a seat beside Tanner, who promptly nudges me with his knee under the table. When I look over at him, he nonchalantly raises his head and lifts his chin towards the door. Taking a sip of my scotch, I follow his line of sight and swallow hard. The scotch dances over my tongue and burns as it slides down my throat. It has a bite that I richly deserve as I feel my world open up beneath my feet, ready to swallow me whole. I wrap my lips around my teeth and clamp down hard. Just when things were going so great, Stassi needs to show up and will, undoubtedly, ruin everything. At this moment, I’m pretty sure God hates me and doesn’t want me to be happy. Ever.
Tanner turns his shoulder and says, “Go deal with it.”
I nod my head in agreement. “Yeah.” I exhale and run a hand down my face.
While the women are absorbed in their conversation, I slip off my stool and walk toward Stassi to attempt to defuse this situation. She sees me approaching and smiles widely.
“Hey, big guy! How have you been?” She flips her long, blonde hair and says a quick hello to Archie, who looks nervously between her and me.
After he takes her order, Stassi turns her attention back toward me.
“It’s been too long, Owen. How have you been?”
“Hey, Stassi. I’ve been really good. Happy, actually.”
“Well, that’s great, Owen. I’m glad to hear that. You out with your guys tonight? Mind if I come hang with you for a bit until my friends get here?”
“Actually, that’s the reason why I’m here talking to you.” I angle my body so I’m blocking Olivia’s view of Stassi as best I can. “I’m here with my girlfriend. She… What… You have every right to be here. It’s just that I’d appreciate it if you didn’t approach me or Tanner at our table and make a scene. She gets a little worked up when she thinks there’s a woman from my past involved.”
“Girlfriend, huh? Was she in the picture when we—”
“No, but I’d just like to have a nice evening with my friends and not have any drama. Catch what I’m throwing?”
Stassi steps to the side of me and glances toward my table. “Is that her?” she asks.
I look over my shoulder and my eyes lock with Olivia’s. So much for no drama. Olivia does not look happy, and why would she? I’m talking to another woman—another beautiful woman at that. I know she gets very nervous, scared—and let’s not forget—angry when I interact with other women who she views as a threat.
I turn back around to look at Stassi. “Yep. So like I said, let’s just avoid each other from here on out. In fact, you may consider going someplace else tonight so you don’t end up with scratches or a black eye.”
“Yeah, okay. I think you’re right. She looks pretty pissed.”
“You have no idea.”
Stassi and I say our goodbyes, and thank God, she leaves the bar without making a scene. I’m not foolish enough to think that Olivia isn’t going to be asking questions. I just don’t want to answer them right now.
When I turn around, Olivia’s eyes are zeroed in on me like a target. I take a deep breath in, square my shoulders for what I’m sure will be a fight, and return to the table.
“You think maybe you and I should go somewhere to talk?” Olivia asks with an arctic chill to
her voice.
I have no interest in creating a scene inside the bar or in front of our friends and Archie’s customers. I nod, my face contrite. Olivia refuses my offered hand to help her down off the stool and stalks past me toward the entrance to the bar.
“Laney? Tanner? If you’ll please excuse us for a moment.”
They both nod silently as I turn to follow Olivia.
As I step outside into the cool night air, I see that Olivia is already down at the end of the block. Her arms are crossed and she’s pacing. I follow her down the block, away from The Hook n’ Ladder’s door and windows, and lean against the side of the building. I’m not running after her this time. I’m learning that I need to give her a little space and let her gather her thoughts, so I wait.
Finally, Olivia turns and sees that I’m not running after her, and she seems dumbfounded that I’m stock still against the building. She huffs a little and starts to walk back toward me.
“Do you have something you want to ask me?” I inquire. I’m not going to spill my guts willingly here.
“Is that a serious question, Owen? Because I’m not really in the mood for you trying to be funny,” Olivia bites out.
“I’m not laughing.” That comment only pisses her off further.
“I walked down the block so we wouldn’t have to have this conversation in front of the bar that you frequent fairly regularly, but if you want to have it here, I’m game!” she yells.
“We’re not in front of the—”
“Whatever!” she hisses.
I realize that she’s angry and hurt and tired of my past coming back to bite her in the ass—especially in front of our friends. I know it’s embarrassing. I’m embarrassed too, but she’s flying off the handle and acting like a petulant child right now. She doesn’t even know why she’s angry with me. She just knows that I was talking with a woman so she went into bitch mode.
