by Candy Quinn
“Catch you later, Jess!” she chimes before I’m left alone, a faint smile on my face. Damn. I’d been hoping to stick together to at least scope out the crowd before this happened. But that’s usually how things go down between me and Casey. She get scooped up by some hot guy, and I end up fishing for drinks at the bar. But hey, friend’s gotta do what a friend’s gotta do, right?
I’m heading over to the bar to get to my half of what I had planned for the night, but before I can get the bartender’s attention, I hear heavy footsteps coming up behind me. For a moment, I feel a rush of nervousness. I’m alone at an afterparty in a foreign country. That hasn’t hit me until now, and I swallow as I debate whether to look back at whoever’s approaching.
Finally, I take a breath, but before I can speak, the man appears at my side. I look up at him—way up. “You look thirsty, miss,” comes a familiar British accent that makes my heart actually skip a beat.
My lips part, and I can just barely keep myself from gaping like an idiot at Jack Delaney, who’s looking down at me with an intrigued glitter in his eyes. “I’d like to fix that.”
“Name’s Jack,” says the lead singer of the band I just flew five thousand miles to see. For the briefest of moments, I don’t know what to say. I’m star-struck. This is Jack Delaney. The Jack Delaney.
“I- Yeah, I know who you are, dude,” spills out of my mouth, and I immediately blush afterwards. Holy fucking shit did I really just say that to HIM?!
I expect his face to twist into a frown and for him to have me thrown out of the building by security or something, but instead, he raises his eyebrows in genuine surprise and lets out a laugh that sound like the charming tunes of a lyre.
“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I-” I start, but he waves me off, silencing me with the simple, good-natured gesture.
“I heard the Dutch were a little aloof, but…” he trails off, and we laugh again before I shake my head, feeling my cheeks blushing furiously.
“I’m American, actually,” I say. “Name’s Jessica. My friend and I flew in this morning.”
“Not to see me, I hope!” he jokes with a roll of his eyes, and I play along without missing a beat.
“No, of course not, we just thought we’d get a drink at some dive and got caught up in the concert. It was alright, I guess,” I say with a roll of my eyes and a playful smile on my lips, and he grins, quirking an eyebrow.
“Better than a kick in the teeth, right?”
“Maybe, but I think I like the afterparty better,” I say, biting my lip. What the hell has gotten into me? I don’t flirt with people. I just don’t. Yet here I am, chatting up the lead singer of the Seldom Strangers. Nobody around us has really noticed, or if they have, nobody’s coming up to interrupt. But something about being near Jack awakens something different in me.
Something I like.
“I’m starting to think the same,” he says, and I realize his eyes are devouring me. I feel so self-conscious, so exposed suddenly. I wish Casey hadn’t left, but at the same time, I want her to stay away. Do I like this feeling of vulnerability in front of this affable guy? “What are you drinking?”
“Nothing,” I say without thinking, assuming he meant to ask what I had in my hand, and I blink after I realize what I said, and I cover my face with my hand as we both laugh at my expense. “I’m so sorry, I’m such a mess tonight! I shouldn’t be allowed to leave the house.”
“I mean, you’re not wrong,” he says with a chuckle, “but what would you like to be drinking?”
“What’s a good Amsterdam drink?” I ask, turning to the bar with him and looking up and down the shelves as the bartender approaches.
“Two Moscow mules,” Jack orders for us, and I raise my eyebrows with a smile. The bartender gives Jack a peculiar look, but he goes to work, and Jack rolls his eyes at me.
“These continental bartenders. Almost makes me glad the tour’s ending today.”
“Really?” I ask, “I figured you’d be glad to get back to England.”
“My family is a little old fashioned,” Jack says as the bartender slides us a couple of ice-cold copper cups filled to the brim with ice, ginger beer, and premium vodka. “Not really my crowd, but we can’t live on the road forever. Well, we can, but the last time we tried that, we almost broke up,” he laughs.
I’ve followed the band’s activity for a few years now, so I know the long tour he’s talking about, but I don’t want to come off like a creepy fangirl, so I keep quiet and drink, looking up at him with starry eyes. “God, I’d be jealous to get to ride around anywhere in Europe. Stuck-up family or no.”
That doesn’t begin to describe the Delaneys. Jack comes from not just a family, but a dynasty. An old and rich bloodline of people, one of four brothers who’s each gone on to carve out a legacy in the world. And Jack is a firecracker among them.
“Well, I can tell you it’s much nicer here this time of year,” he says, and he nods to a secluded spot away from the bar, where we make our way to enjoy our drinks in private.
As we chat, I find myself opening up really fast to this total stranger. What’s even weirder is that he’s doing the same to me! In just a few minutes into our drinks, we’re laughing together like we’ve known each other forever. There’s something appealing about him on a very basic personal level that touches me unlike anyone I’ve ever met.
But our conversation is interrupted as we hear someone shouting drunkenly that midnight is nearly here. At that, Jack glances at me with a wolfish grin.
“So, Miss American Art Student Traveler, who are you gonna kiss when midnight rolls around?”
I feel my face blushing furiously—something it had managed to do at least a dozen times in our conversation already. I know exactly what he means by that. But the question is whether I’m able to play that game and keep up with him.
I know the answer is probably not, but I can’t help myself.
“I don’t know,” I say thoughtfully, glancing out over the city from the rooftop, fireworks already starting to go off afar. “Hoped I’d come across someone to help with that here.” I turned my eyes to him, trying to get an idea of how he’d take that.
“I think I have someone in mind,” he says, and my heart leaps into my throat as I realize he’s looking right at me. I know the meaning of the look in his eyes, and I squirm in my seat, biting my lip to hold back a smile. I have no idea what to say to that. Someone who may as well be a world superstar is flirting with me hard right now.
“And what kind of person does Jack Delaney have in mind?” I hear myself ask, like a different, bolder side of me stepping forward.
He grins as he looks at me, those smouldering eyes not hiding his fiery emotions as he starts to speak, but the sound of chanting throughout the bar and the streets below distracts us. It takes me a second to realize what’s happening, but as I remember what little Dutch I picked up before coming over, I realize they’re counting down.
Ten seconds to the New Year.
“Why don’t you show me?” comes a voice that’s suddenly right up to my ear, and I turn my head to see Jack looming over me, his hands wrapping around my waist. The countdown is getting closer, and I find myself melting into Jack’s arms, my lips parting. 3...2...1…
Fireworks go off all around us and inside my chest as Jack kisses me on the lips, the faint masculine scent of his light cologne filling my nostrils as I feel the soft groan in his chest. He’s holding me up into the kiss, I realize, and I have to push myself up onto my toes to keep from getting just lifted up off the ground.
The word around us descends into cheering and celebration, but everything feels so still between me and Jack as the kiss breaks. It was a short, sweet thing, yet it was so perfect that as I look at him, see those hungry eyes peering into mine, I want to dive back in for more.
My body wants this man, and my mind isn’t willing to hold it back.
He dives in for me again, this time going for my neck, and I tilt my head back a
s he ravishes the sensitive flesh, my jaw hanging open as his teeth graze against it softly. I feel his hands start to explore my body as I give him permission, pressing myself up to him and grinding, feeling his stiffening cock.
He moves me to press me up against a brick wall. I open my eyes long enough to glance behind us. We’re in a somewhat secluded nook, but all it would take would be someone coming over and sticking their head around the corner to see us. But I don’t care.
I need this. And his ravenous, rough movements tell me he needs it too.
His hands grope my sides, moving down to my supple hips, squeezing them gently and rocking them up against his cock. He’s so hard, yet his movements grow controlled, and if I didn’t know better, I’d call them loving. His hands slide to my ass and pull me in close, and he brings his lips to meet mine again, sweeping me up in the rush of his taste.
It’s such a distraction that I don’t notice his hands working up my skirt until it’s too late. Blood rushes to my cheeks as his thick fingers slide into my tights, invasively probing down to the front of my panties.
Within moments, he’s in, and he feels how wet I am down there — I haven’t even noticed just how responsive my body has been to his touch, but it’s like it’s exactly what I’ve been after since landing in the city.
And now my back is arching in anticipation as he discreetly pries apart the buttons of his pants to reveal what is simply the biggest cock I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s gorgeous, its girth as thick as some of the dildos I’ve seen — never used, though. Not because there’s anything wrong with it, but because I’ve always been too shy to try to order one. With Jack, though, I know I’m about to get something far better.
“Please,” I gasp, “I want you so bad, Jack, but I’ve...I’ve never…” I bite my lip, and his eyes widen as he caresses my curves lovingly, and that disarming smile crosses his rugged face again.
“You’re telling me this is your first time?” He lifts my chin up to kiss me on the lips, nearly taking the breath from me as his tongue explores mine, and I feel his cock hard against me. “Then I’ll be tender. Just follow my lead, but whatever you do,” he warns, leaning in to breathe into my ear, making my pussy pulse with need for him, “don’t hold back, Jess.”
With that, I feel the tip of his bulging crown on my lips, and I’m utterly his. The tip of his cock itself feels so huge. I’ve never had anything but my fingers in my pussy before, and they felt nothing like this feels now. The tip is so warming and comforting, and my instinct tells me to push into him, to take as much of him into me as I can.
But he takes his time, keeping his promise, working it in slowly, so slowly. God, it’s excruciating and tantalizing at the same time! It gets bigger as it works towards the shaft proper, and I feel a familiar heat rising inside me as he rocks into me.
My jaw is hanging open as he fucks into me, his cocky smile looming over me as he watches his handiwork render me helpless in his hands. Yet I feel like so much more than the fucktoy my body craves to be. As his cock explores my inner walls, so nimble despite its size inside me, he seems to be getting in tune with my body’s needs, its every desire as I clench and twist around it.
“You’re a natural, Jess,” he compliments me, grinning playfully as he watches my helplessly overwhelmed face look up at him as if he were a god looming over me. I don’t even have words for him, and I feel like an idiot until he kisses me, and I feel his heart beat harder than ever against his chest. “Now let’s go a little further.”
With that, he pushes himself all the way into me. I start to let out a gasp of surprise, but he covers my mouth, the huge hand covering half my face as he starts to buck into me. My eyes close as he starts to fuck me against the wall ruthlessly. He knows the right spots inside me, and now he’s going to abuse them. And I need it so fucking badly.
“I always thought it was true what they say about American women,” he growls in a husk as he starts to buck into me faster, panting into my ear, “but here you are. But no wonder you all like sex so much, if you’re all this good at it.” He brings his head back to look into my eyes, lust filling both our gazes as we fuck hard and fast against the wall, not even caring if people around us know what’s happening. “But you’re one of a kind, aren’t you, Jess?”
One hand blindly grasps the brick wall behind me as the other clenches a fistful of his shirt as I feel my stomach tightening. Something stupid spills out of my mouth as I feel my orgasm welling up inside of me, a fresh new kind of orgasm I’ve never felt before, like a breath of fresh air when I didn’t even know I was in a stagnant room.
“Come inside me, Jack,” I whisper, my voice full of need, desperate for his seed, for this towering, masculine guy’s mark on me, in me, all over me. I need it so fucking bad I can’t stand it, and I’m going to crawl out of my skin if I don’t get it. “Fucking give it to me!”
“Ah, so it is true what they say about you,” he growls, his thrusting getting more rhythmic, fiercer, grinding up against my g-spot ruthlessly and sending wildfire through my whole body. “You’re greedy.”
His cock pumps in and out of me like a piston, and I realize in the next instant that he’s getting less controlled, his cock stiffening and swelling even bigger, if that was even a possibility. Then I hear a low, deep groan from his chest as he spills past the point of no return, and the thought that my own body could have this effect on such a statuesque example of manhood sends ripples of ecstasy through my body, and as I feel the first shot of hot come in my tight pussy, my honey floods his shaft and mixes with it, the winter cold completely useless against the warmth we share and the heat in my body as I feel every anxiety and every worry melt away.
He’s holding me up as he comes, his cock throbbing and releasing more and more of the pearly, virile seed within me. Everything is a whirlwind, a gorgeous swirl of emotion and pleasure that I never want to end…
...but it’s over in a few long moments, and I feel him stroking my sides lovingly, planting a kiss on my glistening forehead as I blink the haze of lust away.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, putting a hand up on his chest, and it’s only then that I realize just how hard his body is, and he smiles as he watches me run my hand up and down his washboard abs and rippling chest muscles. “Jack, that was…”
“How’s your back?” he asks, a little concern in his voice as he nods at the hard brick wall behind me.
“Oh, uh...it’s fine,” I lie, feeling the tingling of pain only now, but it was so worth it. “You were holding me against it. Jack, I-” I stop myself before saying I’ve never felt that good in my life, but I know he can read it on my face.
I can’t be that open with him — I might have just gotten fucked by Jack Delaney, but I’m just another groupie. I’m sure he does this all over the world. I mean, I’m still lucky as hell to have gotten this, to have felt his seed inside me, a little running out as he pulls himself from me and we make ourselves ‘decent’ again. But I can’t pretend this is more than that, right?
But he leans in and kisses me again as he hears his name being called from the main area of the party, and he whispers into my ear, giving my breast a light squeeze as he holds me to him one more time.
“There’s a second performance tomorrow, on the down-low. Down by the docks, 9PM, wharf seven. I’ll see you there.”
He leaves me standing there, gone in a flash, and I’m left with his simple yet firm command, staring after him, wondering if I’d just had a strange, blissful fever dream.
Jack Delaney, the biggest rock star in the city, just came inside me. And he wants to see me again tomorrow.
“Okay, so, New Year’s resolutions: go,” Casey says as we walk through the little cobblestone street, perusing the rows upon rows of some of the most scandalous stores I’ve ever seen.
It’s been a sightseeing day for us. We started at the Van Gogh museum, and it was almost as exciting for the both of us as last night was for me. For someone like me who’s spent her whole l
ife admiring art, this place is the epicenter of everything I’ve learned so much about.
It was an amazing morning that I’ll never forget, but now, it’s time for something more tangibly exciting. We’ve been strolling through the Haarlemmerdijk, a district full of vintage second-hand shops, collectibles, and even some weird local street foods I don’t know the names of. It’s like some kind of exotic bazaar for the kind of people who, well, major in Art and hang out at grunge dive bars. The city knows its clientele pretty well.
“I don’t know,” I say, running my thumb up and down the strap of my purse as we walk, my eyes looking at the lingerie stores on the right. “See more of the world,” I finally say a little uncertainly. “Maybe fall in love? I don’t know.” I rush the last part of the sentence, and Casey doesn’t fail to notice.
“Shit, girl, I was gonna say ‘cut back on caffeine’ or something, and that’s a stretch for me!” We laugh, and in a few more steps, Casey draws my attention to one of the particularly scandalous-looking shops. “What’s gotten into you all of the sudden, I never knew you to be someone thinking about shit like love.”
I blush and try to fall behind just enough to hide it from Casey, but she doesn’t miss it. In fact, she grins wickedly. “You met someone last night!”
“Well, I mean, kind of met…” I start, but Casey is flapping her hands.
“No no no, that’s amazing, I did too, but I didn’t want to tell you in case you had a lousy night.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Okay now don’t leave me hanging,” she insists, “what was he like? Did you...you know, fuck?”
“Casey!”
“Well?”
“...y-yeah, we did,” I say, unable to hide my smile. God, I’m such a dork. Casey practically jumps up and down in excitement, though.
