Turning Point Club Box Set

by JA Huss

  His concern gives me a warm feeling inside. Like he really is my boyfriend, because this is the kind of stuff boyfriends pay attention to and take care of.

  When the doors open again at my apartment he exits with me. “Oh, we forgot to get dinner!” I say, glad he’s still here but afraid he’s just gonna say goodbye and leave.

  “No, we didn’t,” he says, shooting me a grin. “I got this. Come on. There’s a little surprise for you on the roof.” He takes my hand and starts leading me up the stairs.

  “What? What kind of surprise?” And if his concern over my safety had me feeling all gooey inside, this pushes me over the edge. And I’m glad he’s got his back to me as we walk up the steps, because I have a wide smile on my face.

  “You’ll see,” he says, looking over his shoulder at me once we get to the top. We make our way into my bedroom and I grab his old leather jacket off the bed as I pass. Because it’s chilly outside. Because I want to wear it. Because it was his and now it’s mine.

  I slip it on and then climb the ladder, wondering the entire time if Law is looking at my ass.

  I hope he’s looking at my ass.

  Just as I get to the last few rungs on the ladder, I stop.

  “Keep going,” he urges with one hand on my hip.

  “What did you do?” I breathe.

  “Just keep going,” he says. “You’ll see soon enough.”

  So I climb those last few rungs and step out onto my roof. Law follows me. Stands next to me as I take it all in.

  The entire water tower is lit up with strings of white lights. They glow against the backdrop of night, and the city, and the stars like something out of a dream. And the underside is draped with white mosquito netting. Just the way my dad used to do it for special days.

  “What is all this?” I breathe, afraid that talking too loud will break the spell.

  “The deluxe package boyfriend pays attention, Miss Ryan. So…” He shrugs when I look at him. “I had Eduardo set this up.”

  “For me?” I say, my hand over my heart.

  “Yes, of course for you.” He laughs.

  “But… it’s not even my birthday!”

  “Oaklee,” Law says, turning to face me as he takes both my hands in his. “There are no rules for special. We can make this life as fun, as cool, and as special as we want. Any time we want. There’s no holiday on the calendar called Special Day.”

  “But you… we… we’re not even really dating.”

  “So? So what? I like you, you seem to like me. And maybe we’re not dating for real, but we’re definitely partners, right? In your game. In my game.” He lets go of my hands and throws his arms up. “We can do whatever you want. And you said this made you happy as a kid, so it took almost no effort at all for me to replicate what you loved.”

  No effort? Is he kidding? “My dad never climbed the water tower to string lights all the way to the top. I think the whole city can see this tonight.”

  “Well, Eduardo wasn’t happy about that, no doubt.” He laughs. “But that’s how I saw it in my head when you described it to me, so that’s how it got done.”

  “Eduardo…” I say. “How did you get him to do this?”

  “He and I go way back. We work together all the time. He’s a cool dude and besides, now I owe him a favor, and believe me, he’ll make me do something equally ridiculous when it’s his turn to collect. Besides, he’s gonna overcharge me for this security, don’t worry.”

  I turn and look out at the city. Wondering who can see this. Wondering if people who look out at my water tower every night are looking out at it right now thinking, Well, damn. That’s fuckin’ awesome.

  Because that’s exactly what I’m thinking.

  Lawton Ayers has blown me away.

  I turn back to him and he says, “I got pizza too. So we can eat. It’s good cold, so I figured—”

  And that’s when I walk up to him, grab his face in my hands, and kiss him. Right on the mouth.

  He kisses me back, our tongues doing that sweet, familiar dance again. His hands go to my arms, grip my shoulders tightly as the kiss grows. Becomes less desperate and more passionate.

  “What’s that for?” I ask, reluctantly pulling away to point at the picnic table.

  “That,” Law says, nodding his head at the table, “is the sheepskin rug off the floor of your bedroom. I didn’t think you’d want to be picking splinters out of your back tomorrow morning.”

  I can’t help it. I laugh. “You planned the lights, the dinner,” I say, motioning to the pizza box on a small side table nearby, “and the sex?”

  “Well, go big or go home.” Then he smiles. “You can say no if you—”

  I push him backwards. Taking him by surprise so he’ll stop talking. I place both hands on his chest, making him take another step back. Then another. Until he bumps into the end of the picnic table and leans back, half sitting, half standing. Grinning at me like a boy who is about to get lucky.

  Because he is.

  My hands reach for the button of his jeans. His hands slipping inside my leather jacket and under my shirt. I suck in a breath of air because they are cold. But I don’t care. I drag his zipper down, my hands reaching inside, my fingers wrapping around his cock.

  I feel him grow at my touch and his eyes go from wide with delight to half-mast with desire.

  “Tonight,” I say, “it’s your turn.”

  He shakes his head. “I took my turn last night.”

  “Liar,” I whisper, crouching down, his cock fully hard now, and kiss the tip of his head as I stare up into his eyes.

  “You’re going to kill me, Oaklee.”

  God, I love it when he says my name. It makes me want to melt. I open my mouth, cover his head with my lips, and swirl my tongue around until he closes his eyes.

  He opens them again. Almost immediately. And his hands grip each side of my head. His fingers grabbing my hair to guide me, helping me take him deeper.

  I want to look at him. I want to see every expression on his face. But it feels so good to just close my eyes and pump his cock with both hands. Enjoying my part in this as much as he’s enjoying his.

  “God. Damn,” he growls, when I press my head forward until the top of his cock is hitting the back of my throat. I might not have porn-star skills when it comes to this kind of thing. But I have a good idea of what turns guys on. And even though I know my limits and the gag reflex is about to kick in, I try harder. I take him deeper. I open my throat, breathe through my nose, and watch his expression. My eyes on his. His eyes on mine. Desperate to keep this moment in a cage forever. Never let it go.

  But nothing lasts forever. And I have to back away and take a breath so I can dive back down to repeat the whole thing again. Then again, and again, and again… until I’m sucking his cock like it’s food and I’m starving.

  “Oaklee,” he groans again. “You’re gonna—”

  But he doesn’t finish, because I stop, stand up, and reach under my skirt to slip my panties down my legs.

  He watches me. Crooked grin on his face.

  And when I place my hand on his chest again, he lies back on the sheepskin rug. His cock so hard, it’s standing straight up. Like an invitation for me to climb on top of him and cover him with my wet pussy.

  Which I do. Gladly.

  “We could go inside,” he says, breathless now as his hands slip under my shirt again, tug my bra down, and fondle my breasts. “So the whole city can’t watch.”

  “Let them watch,” I say, positioning my hips on either side of his thighs. I sink down. His cock filling me up. My pussy wet, and ready. But the friction is still there. He is big. And Hard. And thick. And I feel everything like this is my first time ever.

  “Yes,” I moan, placing my hands flat on his chest as I begin to rock back and forth. I want to feel everything tonight.

  “Yes,” he agrees, moaning back. Both hands still gripping my tits the way they did last night when he brought me to climax over,
and over, and over again. “Fuck me,” he says. Urging me to go faster. “Fuck me hard, Oaklee.”

  So I do. I stop rocking and start bouncing. My breasts still cradled in his hands. Holding them as I lift up and slam down.

  I want him close to me. Even though I am exactly one arm’s width away, it’s too far.

  And he gets that.

  Because he gets me.

  So his hands stop squeezing my tits and instead, he wraps his arms tight around my back, pulling me down on top of his chest. Holding me captive as he takes over. Thrusting up inside me with a desperation I’ve never felt before with anyone.

  He takes me completely, just like that. Lying on a sheepskin rug, perfectly balanced on a picnic table, on top of my building, at the tip of the world.

  He fucks me as the city watches.

  Two people beneath an old water tower. Basking in glowing white lights. Hidden only by the false privacy of mosquito netting. Under the star-filled night sky.

  We come.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - LAWTON

  There is the rush of sexual climax… and then there’s the rush of sexual climax with someone you adore.

  The difference between the two is so instinctual everyone knows this to be true. There is some connection… something in your chest. Maybe it’s the heart, maybe it’s the soul—it doesn’t really matter what you call it. When you have feelings for someone and you consummate that with a sexual experience everything is heightened.

  Her whole body softens and then slips off to the side. Her breasts against my ribcage. Her face tucked into the crook of my neck. Her fingernails tracing some lazy pattern on my chest.

  My eyes are closed so I don’t really know for sure if her eyes are closed too but I’m certain they are. She’s basking in the same post-coital glow as I am.

  “So… question,” she whispers through her still-heavy breathing.

  “Shoot.”

  “Are you multi-orgasmic as well? Or is that just a talent you bring out in others?”

  I smile. Hold in a laugh. Then open my eyes to a surreal fantasy version of the underside of her water tower.

  The white lights make it all look so special. It’s funny how that happens. How a string of nine-dollar mini lights can change everything. How a sheepskin rug can turn an old wooden picnic table into something so much more. How a leather jacket and a tattoo can change a man in the span of two days. How a woman named Oaklee can make him see himself in a brand-new way.

  I wrap my arms around her and roll over so she’s on her back and I’m on top. I move my hips. Just a little. Just enough for her to feel my still-hard cock against her inner thigh.

  “What do you think?” I ask her.

  She’s smiling up at me, her brown eyes turned slightly yellow from the glow of the lights, her cheeks pink. Flushed from the exertion of sex. Her breathing slower now, but not her heart. Because I can feel it underneath me.

  Still pounding.

  Waiting for more.

  Trying to match mine.

  So we can keep time together.

  I think that’s what hearts do. Keep time. Keep everything together. Keep this crazy thing called life in perspective.

  “One more time here,” I say. “Then I’ll take you inside so I can get you naked.”

  It’s too cold to make her take her clothes off. Even though I know she’d do that if I asked her to. I can already feel the chill of her beneath me. But my body heat will help. Will protect her from the cold.

  The deluxe package includes a boyfriend blanket on a cold night.

  She opens her legs, reaches down between them to play with herself, and my hips adjust enough to allow my cock to slide up to her opening. Her fingers are grabbing my shoulder now. And even through the leather I can feel them dig.

  I want to take the jacket off so she can leave marks on me. I want there to be nothing between us. But I want her to be on the bottom at least once. So she can look up and see the surreal fantasy version of the underside of her water tower just like I did. So we can share that special feeling of being with someone you adore in a way that can’t be repeated.

  No one will ever make love to her like this again. Not even me. Because this is a moment and moments pass into other moments and no two are ever alike.

  She thrusts her hips upward, trying to force me to enter her. I just grin, because not gonna happen. Not until I say so, at least.

  “Come on,” she whispers, watching me intently. “Let’s go.”

  “We’ve got time. There’s no rush.”

  She thrusts upward again. “There is a rush. A rush I want to experience again. Don’t make me beg, Lawton Ayers.”

  “Begging?” I ask playfully. “Is that something you do?”

  She giggles, then gets serious real quick. She frowns. Pouts her lips. Widens her eyes. “Please,” comes out like a whimper. Like she’s been wounded and needs relief. Relief only I can administer.

  “Just take a moment, Oaklee. Feel it with me.”

  Her eyes narrow slightly. Like she’s trying to figure out what I’m asking.

  “The game is over,” I say. “That’s what I want you to feel. We passed it by some time ago. I’m not sure when, exactly. But the game is over.”

  “OK,” she says, her face relaxing. The pout is gone. The confusion is gone. And all her expectations seem to melt away. “We’re real,” she whispers.

  She’s not asking me, she’s telling me.

  I nod, and in that same moment I allow my cock to slip inside her.

  She closes her eyes and clutches my shoulders tighter. And yes, I so badly want to be naked with her inside so I can really feel the hold she’s got on me right now.

  I fuck her slow this time. I feel her this time. I relish the way her pussy clamps against my thick shaft. I enjoy how wet she is. How she moans just a little. How her legs wrap around my waist, trying to box me in and keep me close.

  She doesn’t need to do that. I’m not going anywhere.

  I kiss her as we fuck. It’s a slow kiss because it’s a slow fuck. Our tongues wrapped up in each other. In the simplicity of this night and how everything after this will be complicated.

  Because that’s just how it goes.

  She draws in a deep breath, holds it as her body stiffens and I know what’s coming.

  She’s coming.

  And there’s nothing more beautiful than watching the face of a woman you adore reach the pinnacle of muscle-twitching pleasure with you on top of her.

  So I come too.

  Because that’s what turns me on the most.

  Her pleasure.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN - OAKLEE

  The moment I orgasm he thrusts his hips and fills me so deep I can’t breathe. The muscles in my legs are spasming. My eyelids flutter closed—not sure if they want to stay that way and drag the moment out behind a curtain of fireworks on black, or open wide to see the whole thing in perfect clarity.

  They lose the battle and stay closed as pleasure courses through me in waves. My muscles contracting against his cock. The low growl comes from deep within him as he reaches his climax with me, and then the explosion as he comes inside me.

  I laugh. I can’t help it. I just smile, and laugh, and let the happiness and satisfaction bubble out of me like some wild child who’s never been let out to play.

  “Jesus,” he says, his body relaxing.

  I lean my face up into his neck. Smelling the new leather of his jacket, the faint scent of antiseptic from the tattoo, and aftershave leftover from this morning.

  He grabs my hair, pulls it—not too hard, but not too softly either—until my mouth is up against his again.

  We don’t kiss. We don’t even move. We just go still.

  I can feel him smile. I’m sure he can feel me smile too.

  “Now what?” I ask.

  “Whatever you want, Oaks,” he replies back, kissing my lips softly. Tenderly.

  “I’m not talking about—”

  “I know
what you’re talking about,” he says, cutting me off. “And my answer is still, ‘Whatever you want, Oaks.’”

  “But—”

  “Shhh,” he says. “Stop thinking.”

  I laugh. “No one can stop thinking.”

  “It wasn’t a request.”

  “No?”

  He continues to kiss me. His mouth more urgent. His lips more demanding. His will imposed.

  “No. We’re going to take that pizza inside,” he says. “Then we’re going to fuck in a hot shower so we can get warm. And then we’re going eat dinner naked in front of your fireplace.”

  I just smile.

  “Any objections?”

  “Can’t think of any.”

  “Good, because that wasn’t really a question either.”

  “You’re dumb.”

  He places both palms flat on top of the sheepskin rug and lifts his upper body up off me. My shirt has ridden up, exposing my belly. And the cold, silver zippers of his jacket drag across my skin and make me shudder.

  “Game over, Oaklee.”

  I get serious. My smile gone. My shuddering body still. I have to swallow hard before I nod yes and say, “OK.” Because this… this is real. I think this is real. “OK,” I say again.

  He gets up, puts his cock back in his pants and zips up. Then picks up my panties, slips them back up my legs so slowly I want to die… and offers me his hand as he grabs the pizza box with the other. We take the long way around to the stairs that lead down onto another terrace on the opposite side of the building so we don’t have to climb down the ladder.

  Maybe he thinks we do this because it’s difficult to climb down a ladder holding a pizza box.

  But that’s not why I take him the long way.

  It’s because I don’t want to let go of his hand.

  We enter through a sliding glass door that leads into one of the spare rooms on the main level.

  “What’s this room?” he asks as we walk past the large wooden barrels and giant glass jugs called carboys.

  “This is my secret beer room,” I say, looking over my shoulder to wink at him. “This is where I keep the Assassin Saison.”