by Ranae Rose
His words alone sent a fresh thrill of arousal through her, and she gripped his ass again in anticipation.
“Not yet,” he said, slowing.
Each stroke after that was slower than the last, deep and deliberate. Her core clenched in time with his motion, leaving her perpetually on the verge of orgasm. If only he’d go faster.
He waited for her to ask, and a smile curved the corners of his mouth when she gasped “please”.
He stopped completely, his only motion inside her the steady pulsing of his cock. It was enough to make her moan, especially when he grasped one of her breasts and began to massage the nipple with his thumb. It had already been hard, now it went rigid beneath his touch. “Please,” she breathed again.
The muscles in his thighs tensed against her own, and she barely had time to brace herself. He pounded himself into her, deliciously deep and hard. Her body reacted immediately, her core contracting wildly around his cock as he thrust. She cried out, gasping against his shoulder. Deep and intense, her climax wrung the sensation out of all her inner muscles. Her body was milking him, and when he groaned suddenly she knew it was working. He pushed harder as he came, driving her to seize his shoulders and dig her nails in.
His cock pulsed inside her, even after he’d stopped, his energy apparently as expended as hers. Her body was soft and sensitive against his, threads of electric current shooting through her flesh and making her want to squirm. Still, she welcomed the solid warmth of his body against hers. She loosened her death-grip on his shoulders and wrapped her arms around his neck instead, finding his mouth with hers as she embraced him.
Chapter 5
The cash register ejected its drawer with an almost musical ting, cheerily accepting a few bucks that’d just bought a customer a cup of coffee and two donuts to go. Derek tucked the money away, already thinking about pulling the next batch of crullers from the fryer. They had what – a minute or two left to go now? Jason would get them out if he didn’t, but he was anxious to see how they turned out. He’d always made the crullers in his best, now temporarily defunct fryer, and the last batch made in the second-best machine had come out slightly overdone. They sat on a platter on a table in the kitchen now – he refused to sell a sub-standard product. The pile was slowly diminishing as he and Jason snagged one here and there, perpetually snacking on the slightly burnt treats.
“Derek?”
He turned to find Jason standing in the door that led to the kitchen. “Yeah?”
“I pulled the crullers out early – any longer and I think they would’ve burned again.”
Derek breathed a small sigh of relief. “Good. Bring them up as soon as they’re cool enough. We’re all out.”
Jason nodded and disappeared into the kitchen again, leaving Derek to survey the late Saturday morning breakfasters that occupied more than half the dining tables. An elderly man sat in one corner – Derek recognized him easily, as he ate his Saturday breakfasts at the donut house religiously. A young mother with a crumb-faced toddler in tow sat at another corner table, her attention devoted to the apparently considerable task of keeping her coffee out of her child’s reach. The table nearest the register was filled with a cluster of young women – college-aged, he guessed. Sometimes student groups from the local community college came to the shop to study together while devouring donuts and downing coffee at an astonishing rate. These girls seemed thoroughly absorbed in something, though they were giggling far too often for it to be calculus or history. Their heads were pressed together, blocking his view of the object of interest. One of them turned abruptly to look at him, and he was locked in eye-contact with her before he had time to look away. Her eyes widened comically, and she giggled shrilly before turning back around, ducking her head down again amongst her girlfriends’.
What had that been about? Before he had time to really contemplate the question, the rest of the girls began to take turns turning to stare, each one giggling more loudly than the last when she turned back to her friends, whispering in hushed but excited tones.
“Looks like you’ve got a fan club.”
Derek whirled to face Jason, who was surveying the queue of gigglers with a smug smile.
Derek rolled his eyes. “Yeah right.”
“You shouldn’t play it off,” Jason replied with an ostentatious eye-roll of his own. “You should be grateful – that brunette in the blue sweater is really cute.”
“You go talk to her then,” Derek said, strolling back to the kitchen to whip up another batch of devil’s food donuts. Just the mention of cute girls had filled his head with visions of Kelly, and a slight tingling in his pants made him want to escape public view, just in case.
Once he was safely alone in the kitchen, he leaned against the wall and sighed. God, last night had been great. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, about her. Was she thinking about it too? She’d enjoyed it – he had a collection of little crescent-shaped marks dusted across his shoulders and ass to prove it. Not that he was complaining. She’d been amazing. He vividly remembered the tightness of her body, the feel of her breasts rising and falling beneath him, her nipples brushing his chest, the way her voice had sounded when she’d said his name…
“Derek?”
Damn! He hadn’t even started on the batch of devil’s food. He shook his head, trying and failing to empty it of memories from the night before. “What?”
Jason popped his head around the corner, his expression uncharacteristically smug again. Had he worked up the courage to talk to the brunette?
“You’re going to want to see this.”
Derek abandoned the kitchen reluctantly, emerging behind the counter, from which Jason snatched a sheet of paper.
He stared as Jason held it aloft. It was a picture, obviously printed off a computer. It took several moments for everything to sink in. “Oh shit,” he said when it did.
Jason’s expression transformed to something caught between amusement and incredulity. “So it is you!”
Derek snatched the paper from his hand, balling it up and shoving it into his pocket. “Where’d you get that?”
“Those girls left it on the table.”
He shot a glance at the table nearest the register and was relieved to see only a few crumpled napkins and stray crumbs there – the college girls were gone. So this was what they’d been giggling over? The wad of paper suddenly felt like a rock in his pocket. How…
“So, which one did you date?”
Derek frowned at Jason. “What?”
“Which one took the picture? Was it the brunette?”
“I don’t know.”
Jason arched an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Whoa. I guess you really do have a fan club.”
“No,” Derek growled. “I’d never seen any of them until today.”
Jason’s congratulatory expression faded, replaced by a look of curious suspicion. “Then how–”
Derek cut him off, hastily explaining how his gym bag had been stolen several nights ago and he’d chosen to make a run for home, nude save for a towel wrapped around his waist. “I had no idea anyone snapped a picture,” he said, thinking of the photo he’d stuffed into his pocket. It’d been taken at the worst possible moment, when his towel had slipped down, leaving him bare-assed. Had one of the girls taken the photo, or had it been someone else, and the image had simply spread around town? Neither thought was pleasant. Just what the Blue Mills Donut House needed – a picture of its owner streaking through town like some sort of naked maniac.
****
Kelly could hardly wait for Derek to step into her apartment so she could share the good news with him. She’d phoned her best friend Amanda as soon as she’d found out, but hadn’t told anyone else yet. She was so giddy she wanted to shout it from the rooftops. “Guess what?” she said, pausing for only half a moment to savor the light kiss Derek planted on her cheek in greeting.
He grinned down at her, clearly catching her good mood. “What?”
“I
got approved for a business loan!”
He pulled her into an embrace, snatching her right off her bouncing toes. “That’s great!”
She let him hug her for a minute, breathing excitedly against his chest. She’d been nervous ever since she’d applied for the loan, afraid she’d be turned down. She had an excellent credit history and had labored meticulously over her plan, but she was still just a waitress without any managerial or business experience. “I found out this morning, and I called my realtor straight away to put in an offer on the building.”
“Forget about the buffet then. I’m taking you some place special.”
She wriggled against him, escaping his embrace. “Not in this!” she said, indicating the sweater she’d paired with her most flattering jeans. It was a cute outfit, but not a ‘some place special’ ensemble.
He shrugged. “You look great. Besides, I’m more interested in what’s underneath.” He reached out, grinning, to slip a few fingers beneath the hem of her sweater and rub the curve of her hipbone suggestively.
She shuddered as a pleasant chill raced down her spine and her excitement abruptly began to refocus, turning now toward Derek. Memories of their lovemaking had been playing through her mind since it’d happened two days ago, causing her to go weak in the knees at random intervals. Only her preoccupation with the good news from the bank had kept her from throwing herself at him as soon as he’d walked in this evening. Now, she pressed herself suddenly against him again, desperate to feel his body against hers. “Is that right?” This time, she’d gone all out ‘underneath’. She hadn’t planned on letting him catch an eyeful until after dinner, but now… She pulled her sweater over her head and tossed it to the floor, seized by sudden impulse. She was going to take it off anyway to change – why not let him have a peek?
His jaw dropped, his dark eyes widening appreciatively.
“You like it?” she asked, pressing herself against him again so her breasts rubbed his chest, barely covered by the thin black lace cups of her bra. Her nipples were clearly visible through the delicate material, already hardening against him. He was looking too, and doing a little stiffening of his own.
He breathed hard against her hair, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her close enough that she could feel his considerable appreciation. “Like it? That’d be an understatement.”
She shifted against him, rubbing her belly against his swollen cock.
He groaned. “Are you just teasing me? Because if so, you’re a cruel woman.”
Her breath caught in her throat as he pushed back against her, flexing his hips in response to her motion. At first she’d only meant to give him a look to whet his appetite, but now…
“They’re going to kick me out of the restaurant when I lay you across the table,” he breathed, adding “if I even make it there,” as an afterthought.
“You won’t,” she replied, reaching down to grasp his cock through his jeans.
He pressed a hand between her legs, rubbing her clit through the denim. “Is that an invitation?”
She squeezed him in reply, reaching below to cup his balls as she did so.
He lifted her suddenly and she wrapped her legs around his waist, letting his erection rub against her crotch, pressing the seam of her jeans against her clit. He nipped her earlobe and began to move, carrying her, though not toward the bedroom as she’d expected. She was just about to ask where he was taking her when he lowered her onto a smooth oaken surface – the kitchen table. Her core tingled and tightened as he lay her across it, reaching down to unbutton first her jeans, and then his own. “How sturdy is this thing?” he asked as he pulled her pants down over her ankles, casting an appraising glance at each of the table’s four legs in turn.
“Sturdy enough,” she gasped. Hopefully that was true – no way was she going to stop him.
“Damn,” he breathed, getting an eyeful of the black lace panties she was wearing, a perfect match with her bra.
She smiled in satisfaction, watching the way his eyes roved over the sparse lace that revealed more than it covered what lay beneath. Before she knew it he’d planted a hand on each of her hips and was turning her over.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he rolled her onto her belly.
“Checking out the view from back here,” he said, sliding a finger beneath the thong string.
Her cheeks flushed with heat – half from arousal and half from self-consciousness. “Great. Just what you need – an up-close inspection of my butt. As if it doesn’t look big enough from far away.”
“It is just what I need,” he assured her, “and it looks even better up close.” He placed a hand on one cheek and squeezed for emphasis. “Perfect.”
Her core drew itself even tighter, and her clit throbbed against the tabletop. Perfect? Her self-consciousness began to drain away, replaced by burning need. “Don’t make me wait.”
He rolled her onto her back again and fixed her with an intense gaze as he pulled the ebony lace down over her hips. “I won’t.”
He’d already unbuttoned and unzipped his own pants. Now he yanked them down along with his underwear, letting them slide over his ass. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom, donning it as she watched. She was ready, her knees held wide apart in invitation, her legs dangling over the edge of the table. He grasped its edge as he entered her, moaning in appreciation.
She arched her back against the tabletop, gasping as he filled her. He removed his hands from the oaken edge and placed them instead on her hips, pulling her tight against him and thrusting again. She shuddered, her fingers scrabbling against the wood as she searched for something to grasp. His body was out of reach, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to get her hands on it.
He watched her struggle and smiled, pushing deep inside.
She dug her nails into her own palms, forgetting about anything besides the fact she was about to come. Gripping him tight, she pressed her hips down hard against the table as waves of pleasure washed through her core. She gasped and he sighed, tightening his hold on her hips and beginning to move faster.
****
Derek gazed across the table at Kelly as they awaited the arrival of their meals at the nicest restaurant in Blue Mills, an Italian place called Sorrento. With her lips parted, she looked irresistible as she raised her wine glass to them. He watched appreciatively, eyeing the way her little black dress clung to her body. She’d put the thing on after he’d finished making love to her on the table back in her apartment.
“So how was your day?” she asked, lowering her wine glass. “I didn’t even think to ask you, with all the excitement over my loan approval and, mmm…” She titled her head at him, smiling conspiratorially.
“It could’ve been better,” he admitted, the smile her mention of their lovemaking had triggered at odds with his words.
She gazed across the table at him, plainly concerned. “Having trouble without your best fryer?”
He shook his head, and then thought better of it. “Well, yeah – but that’s not what I meant.” The wadded up piece of paper felt suddenly heavy in his pocket. He might as well tell her about it. She’d seen him that night, after all, and if the photo really was spreading around town she was bound to find out about it sooner or later. “Something else came up at the shop today.”
She watched, her face a perfect portrait of concern as he pulled the paper out of his pocket and uncrumpled it, smoothing it against the surface of the table. Then he slid it to her, feeling slightly nervous. What would she think when she found out a nude picture of him was circulating around town?
She glanced down at the photo and her jaw dropped. She stared at it for several minutes before looking up at him, her eyes wide and cheeks a bright pink. Oh God, let that flush be because of the wine.
“Where did this come from?” she gasped.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. So much for a calm reaction – she seemed more shaken by the photo than he was. “Some cus
tomers brought it with them and left it behind on their table this morning.”
Her cheeks were redder than ever.
“I have no idea who took it,” he added, just in case she was drawing the same sort of crazy conclusions Jason had that morning.
“I do,” she said, blinking as she met his eyes.
“You do?”
She nodded, staring down at the table now. “It was me.”
“You took this photo?” He leaned forward to stare at it, as if the battered printout would back her up if it were true.
She nodded again. “I snapped it with my cell phone that night. It was an automatic reaction, I guess. I didn’t know who you were, and I never thought I’d actually meet you.”
