THIRST

by Deborah Bladon

  I keep putting her off with the excuse that I’m up to my neck in work.

  Marching back to the bed, I pick up my cell and scan the screen.

  Rocco: If you need help with that zipper, I’m right here.

  My head pops up to find him standing by his window with his phone in his hand.

  I peer at him, a smile tugging on my lips. I fire a text back to him.

  Dexie: I think I can handle a zipper.

  His gaze drops to his phone. His fingers fly over the screen.

  Rocco: It’s an open offer. I’m also great at braiding hair, painting toenails, staring at the most beautiful woman on the planet...

  I read the message twice, focusing on the last few words.

  Another text appears.

  Rocco: I’m going to take a shower. Call me if you need ANYTHING.

  I press my phone against my chest as I steal one last look at him.

  ***

  Three hours, and one cute red suede clutch later I type out an email to the client who has been waiting for this treasure.

  It’s done and as fabulous as I knew it would be.

  I set it on the edge of my workstation and take a picture of it to attach to the email. The woman who ordered it lives in Boston and I want her to see it as soon as she wakes up tomorrow morning.

  I press send and set my phone down.

  I turn around to face my windows. As tempted as I was to try and catch a glimpse of Rocco after his shower, I resisted the urge.

  Once I started sewing the purse, work consumed me.

  It’s always that way once a design starts taking its physical shape. I love the sprint to the finish line.

  I take a few tentative steps closer to my windows, but Rocco’s apartment is dark. It’s so late that he must have gone to sleep.

  I lean my forehead against the glass and draw in a deep breath.

  The kiss we shared on the street sparked a need inside of me. It’s different than what I felt when we kissed in his apartment last night. Each touch of his lips to mine fuels my desire for the man.

  I gasp when a light pops on inside his apartment.

  My heart rate kicks up when I spot him moving in his living room.

  Turning to face me, I get my first look at him. He’s wearing dark boxer briefs and nothing else.

  His hair is a tangled mess. He looks just woken or just fucked.

  We stare at each other, the energy flowing between us snapping with the raw power of want.

  Life is about taking chances; diving off cliffs with the uncertainty of what’s waiting but the belief that fate will be there to catch you.

  I need to take this chance. I have to believe that whatever happens, my heart and my business will survive.

  I lift my hand to the center of my chest, tap it twice through the thin fabric of my dress, and point at him.

  An impossibly sexy grin takes over his mouth as he nods and motions with a curl of his fingers for me to go to him.

  I do.

  Chapter 36

  Rocco

  I descend the stairs two at a time, so I can reach the door before Dexie does.

  I didn’t waste a second after she motioned that she wants to join me. I brushed my teeth, slid a pair of gray sweatpants over my boxers and took off out of my apartment.

  I swing open the door that leads to the sidewalk and find her two feet away.

  Those red heels she seems to love are on her feet, and a thin pink T-shirt dress barely covers her body.

  “Rocco,” she says my name with softness in her tone. “I was going to buzz so you’d let me in. You didn’t have to come down.”

  My building doesn’t have a doorman. There’s not a lobby in sight. A simple square intercom panel hangs on the exterior wall next to a glass door with a silver handle. Inside is a space large enough for two or three people to stand. The residents’ mailboxes hang on a wall opposite the door.

  There’s one way to go when you enter the building and that’s up. Carpet-covered stairs lead to the first floor and a landing that ties into the stairs that lead to the second.

  I’m on the sixth.

  “I want to walk up with you.” I reach my hand out to her.

  She moves closer, jingling her keys in her fingers. “I remembered this time.”

  I laugh as she brushes past me to enter my building. My cock has been hard since I saw her at her window.

  She glances down at the front of my sweatpants. When she looks up, her cheeks have blushed a soft pink.

  Dexie is the most seductive woman I’ve ever met. The way she dresses and her belief in herself speaks of a quiet confidence that’s rare. I’ve never seen it in any of the women I’ve dated or fucked.

  “You first.” I motion to the stairs.

  She brushes her fingertips over the hem of her very short dress. “Why don’t you go first? I wouldn’t want you sneaking a peek up my dress.”

  I let out a hearty laugh. “I thought you invited yourself over so I would look up your dress.”

  She cracks a wide grin. “You go first and we’ll talk about what’s up my dress after you make me a cup of coffee.”

  “Two splashes of cream and one sugar.” I drop my hands to my hips.

  She nods as her gaze slides over my bare chest. “Extra, extra hot.”

  ***

  The coffee mugs are empty, her red shoes are on the floor and her inhibitions are slowing slipping away.

  We spent the last hour talking about her business and what she sees for the future of it.

  Unless Dexie increases the price she’s charging for her handbags, her business will never grow.

  You can’t make a product with as much precision and care as she insists on and make a fair profit on a bargain sales price.

  Discussing the glaring inconsistencies in her business model will have to wait for tomorrow. Tonight I want to fuck her, not teach her the finer points of profit margins.

  “What did you think the first time you saw me over there?” Her hand drifts in the air toward my window.

  We’re seated on the couch side-by-side. She stole one glance at her darkened apartment when she arrived. She hasn’t looked in that direction since. Her focus has been solely on me.

  I’m the luckiest man in the entire fucking world tonight.

  “I saw you before you saw me,” I confess. “I first saw you when Harold took you on a tour of the apartment.”

  Confusion knits her brow. “That was a Sunday night. It was raining.”

  “Your hair was wet.” I reach for a pink strand of her hair. “Your clothes were wet.”

  Her hands leap to the front of her dress. “I remember that. I was wearing jeans and a white blouse.”

  And those red heels were on her feet.

  The blouse was wet and sheer. I could make out the white lace bra she was wearing underneath. I don’t know what the hell Harold had going on that night, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from his phone’s screen.

  The most beautiful woman in the world was walking circles around him checking out the apartment, and he didn’t once glance in her direction.

  “I prayed that you’d move in.” I shake my head with a chuckle. “The night you did, I watched from right here.”

  She finally turns to glance behind her at her apartment. “You started watching me the night I moved in?”

  I nod when she locks eyes with me again. “A few nights later you saw me when I came home after a wedding reception.”

  “I’ll never forget that night,” she says softly. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

  I slide closer to her, wanting her to know that this moves at her pace. I’ve been aching to kiss her since she arrived, but I didn’t want to stunt whatever she’s feeling by pushing her.

  Her hands jump to my face. “Promise me that what happens tonight won’t change anything between us. It won’t impact our future business relationship...if I choose you, that is.”

  I smile at the addendum she tossed ont
o the back of her request.

  I’ll promise her the world right now because I want to kiss her more than I want my next breath. I want to touch her body, taste her cunt. I want inside of her.

  “When we become business partners, we’ll balance this with that,” I say quietly. “One step at a time, Dexie.”

  Her thumb moves to touch the corner of my mouth as she repeats my words back to me, “One step at a time.”

  Chapter 37

  Dexie

  Rocco’s mouth crashes into mine, and I whimper.

  This is precisely what I wanted when I stood at my window and invited myself here.

  I moan through the kiss when I feel his fingers on my thigh. I’m so wet. I know that my panties are drenched even though his lips have only touched mine.

  His tongue parts my lips and finds my tongue, teasing and taunting me.

  My body reacts to its need, sending my legs apart.

  “Dexie,” He breathes my name out in a groan.

  It’s so filled with pure want that I put my hand over his to slide it higher. I need him to feel what he’s doing to me.

  He growls when his fingertips skim over the rough lace of my panties. “Christ. So good.”

  He moves quickly, dropping to his knees on the floor in front of the couch. “I have to taste you.”

  Panic rushes over me. “No, we can’t. No.”

  My hands fly in the air to try and motion for him to stand.

  “Not here,” I clarify because the look of pure disappointment on his face is almost too much. “Not by the window.”

  He stares into my eyes as his hands slide up to grab the waistband of my panties before he glides them down my legs.

  They’re tossed aside when his index finger runs over the length of my cleft.

  “In my bed.” His voice is dangerously low. “I need... I fucking need to taste your cunt.”

  My knees wobble as he hauls me up to my feet. He wraps an arm around my waist before he hoists me into his arms.

  I stare into the most intense eyes I’ve ever seen as he pads down the hallway taking me to an experience I know I’ll never forget.

  ***

  My dress and bra are on the floor before he lowers me onto the bed.

  A curtain covers the window, shielding our intimacy from anyone’s prying eyes. I wanted him in the other room, but the thought of anyone watching us was too much. I couldn’t do it. I can’t do it.

  There’s just enough light filtering into the room that I can see all of him when he pushes his sweatpants and boxer briefs to the floor.

  He’s large and toned everywhere.

  A happy trail leads to a thick, heavy cock between his legs.

  He runs his hand over the length of it. “Do you know how long I’ve thought about fucking you?”

  “Do it,” I tempt him because my body is on fire. I need to come. I know that any touch from him will set me over the edge.

  I don’t care if it’s his mouth, his fingers or that delicious cock that takes me there.

  “No.” Settling between my thighs, he shakes his head. “I eat first.”

  My back involuntarily arches when I feel the softest feather touch on my cleft. It’s his lips and then his tongue darts out to circle my clit.

  I drop a hand to his hair, winding my fingers between the silky strands.

  This has been the fuel for my masturbation fantasies for weeks. I’ve hidden under the covers in my bed and gotten off to the mental image of Rocco licking me.

  His mouth teases me, drawing sounds from deep within me that I don’t recognize.

  Each is met with a groan from him and a lash of his tongue against my throbbing clit.

  I circle my hips, chasing the release I need so desperately.

  My thighs tremble when I feel a finger slide into my channel. He moves it slowly, inching it back until another glides in with it.

  I moan from the sensation of being taken like this. I’m so open and so vulnerable.

  “So sweet,” he whispers against my inner thigh. “Your cunt is so fucking sweet.”

  The words send me on a collision course with my need, and when his lips find my clit again and he sucks it between his teeth, I try to say his name, but the only thing that escapes me is a shuddering breath as I come hard against his mouth.

  He licks me through my orgasm, his fingers gliding softly in and out, taking me from the high of one release, straight into the path of another.

  “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He flicks his tongue over my sensitive clit. “I want that again.”

  I hide my face behind my hands. “I can’t again.”

  Before I can process what’s happening, I feel his lips on my cheek. “I wish you could see yourself.”

  I move one hand and crack open an eye to look at him. His hair is mussed from my fingers, his lips covered in the sheen of my release.

  I reach up and run a finger over his mouth. “I’ve thought about you doing that.”

  His hand trails down my cheek to my left breast. He circles the swollen nipple with his fingertip. “You thought about me eating you?”

  I close my eyes briefly against the rush of emotions. I’ve always fought hard to keep vulnerability at bay, but I trust him. For some reason, I trust this man to understand me. “I sometimes touch myself thinking about it.”

  “Show me.”

  “Show you?” I repeat his words back, unsure if he’s suggesting what I think he is.

  “Show me how you touch this beautiful body when you think about me.”

  I stare at him, unsure of what I can say to that. He just got me off and now his demand is one that I don’t know if I can fulfill.

  I’ve never touched myself in front of anyone. I haven’t even done it with the lights on.

  He slides away from me to open a drawer on his nightstand. I have no idea if he’s reaching for a tube of lube or a vibrator to aid me in his request. That’s not what’s in his hand when the drawer closes.

  It’s a condom wrapper.

  He rips it open, tossing the package on the floor at his feet.

  He sheathes himself. His bicep flexes when he runs his hand over his cock.

  “Show me.” He moves between my legs, resting on his heels, his dick curling up toward his navel.

  I look down at my pussy. It’s still so wet from the combination of my need and his mouth. “Rocco...”

  “Trust me.” He reaches for my hand, kissing the palm before he lowers it to my stomach.

  I push aside all of my reservations when I see the look in his hooded eyes. He’s so desirous, so wanting of me.

  I slowly glide my hand along my skin, until my fingers touch the top of my smooth cleft. I glance up to see his eyes transfixed on my hand, on each of my movements.

  He growls when my fingers skim over my folds. His hand leaps to his cock when I circle the tip of my finger over my clit. I moan from the sight of his palm wrapped around his dick. It’s primal and raw. His need to get off as desperate as mine was before he took me there with his mouth.

  “You’re so fucking perfect.” He ups the pace of his hand when I draw fast circles over my clit with my fingertips. “That’s it, just like that.”

  I mewl a response when he squeezes the tip of his cock.

  “I can’t,” he says on a deep breath. “I fucking can’t wait.”

  With those words, my hand is pushed aside, my legs spread by the width of his hips and he drives his big, beautiful cock into me in one long exquisite thrust.

  Chapter 38

  Rocco

  I let go when I was inside Dexie in a way I never have before.

  I fucked her hard, impulsively. My control snapped when she dug her fingernails into my shoulder. I went at her like a man who had been deprived of his life’s sustenance for years.

  When I came, it was with a sound so deeply rooted inside of me that she cried out.

  She came too, her tight pussy pulsing around me as I rode her throu
gh her orgasm. As I dropped from my high, I fingered her clit, rubbing tiny circles around the swollen nub until she came again.

  I stare down at my bed and the beautiful woman who is wrapped in my black sheets, her face buried beneath a mane of blonde and pink hair.

  I want to wake her up by flipping her onto her stomach so I can eat her again, savoring the taste of her sweetness while she makes those hot-as-fuck noises that she made when I first brought my mouth to her pussy.

  I scrub both hands through my hair.

  What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

  No tomorrow is ever going to be the same.

  I’ve touched her. I’ve fucked her. I’ve watched her fall asleep.

  I turn my back to her so I can catch my breath. My chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself.

  “Rocco?”

  I look to the heavens for help when I hear her whisper my name. I can’t fall in love with this woman. That’s never going to be my fate.

  “Hey,” I say quietly as I turn back to face her.

  Her eyes lazily run over the length of my body. “You got dressed.”

  I snap the waistband of my boxer briefs. “Just these.”

  “You’re wearing more than me.” She kicks back the covers to reveal her beautiful, lush body.

  I stare at it, taking in the flushed pink hue of her skin, her hardened nipples and the smooth plane of her stomach.

  “Show me your scar, Rocco.”

  The scars that matter are inside of me, marring my heart. They’ve never faded. They never will.

  I inch down the waistband of my boxers to run my finger over the scar on my left hip. “It’s here.”

  She squints her eyes. “I can’t see it. Come closer.”

  She urges me with a wave of her hand.

  I take two steps closer to the bed until I’m standing right in front of her. “Look closely, Dexie. It’s here.”

  She skims her finger over it. “I see it now.”

  I should launch into the story of how I took a flying leap off a swing at a playground after I snuck a can of beer from my dad when I was fourteen. I ended up on top of a broken soda bottle, the glass piercing my skin.