by Misti Murphy
“No, no that’s…” That’s fucking hot. She wants to wander around my house in one of my sweatshirts. I want to see that. Besides, if she goes home, there’s no guarantee she won’t think better of coming back. And I don’t think going after her and carrying her back in a fireman’s hold is going to do either of us any favors. “Jesus, Chloe. That’s sexy as fuck.”
“I don’t know about that.” She buries a nervous laugh in her drink.
“You don’t know if making yourself comfortable in my home, in my clothes, is sexy? Or you don’t know if you are?”
“Does it matter?” She takes another quick swig of her wine while the tops of her ears turn pink.
I steal her drink from her and tangle my fingers with hers while I put the glass down. “You are sexy as fuck.”
“As fuck?” Canting her head to the side, she raises an eyebrow. “What does that even mean? You can’t just add ‘as fuck’ to the end of a sentence.”
I draw her to me, bring her right up against me, our hands locked between us. My free hand goes to her hair so I can pull some of those pins free. “I’ve wanted to do this since you got out of your car.”
Her hair tumbles out of its neat ’do, and I run my hands through the shiny strands. They feel like silk on my fingers.
“You’ve wanted to mess up my hair?” She tries to sound indignant but fails. Her tits rise and fall inside her serious little blouse, and there’s a fine shake in her balance, as though I’m making her weak at the knees. Staring up at me with parted lips, she watches me, waiting.
“No. Not just that.” I take a strand of her hair between my fingers, follow the length of it behind her ear and along her jaw to her cheek. Cupping it, I lean in. Lean in so close I can feel her breath on my face, smell the wine mixed with her scent. A little closer still until her breath hitches and she can no longer look at anything but my lips. Her fingers are tight around mine, squeezing the bones together. “I want to mess up all of you. I want to put wrinkles in your solemn little skirt, make your skin flush. And, yeah, I want to make your hair fluff up from my hands in it.”
She wets her lips, uses her tongue and her teeth to try to ease the anticipation. But it’s been there all along.
“Paynt?”
She rises up on her toes as I mash my mouth to hers. Her fingers grip my bicep for a moment as she opens to me, then they move to my chest, bunching up the cotton for leverage. Twisting her head to the side, she pushes her tongue against mine. If I thought about kissing my neighbor when I first met her, I never expected it to be like this, but each time we kiss she turns wanton and eager and I crave it more than I’m willing to admit.
Letting go of her hand, I grip her hips and pick her up, depositing her on the counter surface. Fingers pull at my hair, scrape at my scalp while she thrusts into my mouth. We war for dominance in a kiss that steals my breath and has her panting as I bite at her bottom lip. My hands splayed on either side of her, I lean over, and she clings to my shoulders, my shirt. One hand holds her up from the surface, the other works on pushing up my T-shirt and touching every damn inch of my abs before tickling over the trail of hair at my waist.
I break the kiss long enough to shed my flannel outer shirt and yank the cotton one over my head. I’m so turned on by her, my gut aches with need and my erection stands rigid inside my jeans. Her gaze catches there for a moment, her pupils heavy with lust, and she scrapes her teeth over her bee-stung bottom lip. God, I want to take a bite out of her, want to strip her naked and sink my teeth into her skin while she rides my cock.
She sheds her jacket, her eyes on me the whole time. They’re luminous, a little tempestuous and nervous. Being looked at by her, like this, it stutters my heart and tightens my throat. It’s been so fucking long since I wanted a woman as much as I want her.
I push her knees apart and shift between them, covering her mouth with mine again before I nibble at her jaw and flick my tongue over the sensitive spot near her ear, at the place where her pulse races hard, at the dip between shoulder and throat I expose when I undo the buttons on her blouse and push it down her arms. Slinky satin and lace contrast her creamy skin, the outline of nipples like bullets point the fabric, and I lift her hand and suck her fingers into my mouth, lick them, and bite at her knuckles. They’re sweet from the strawberry juice and sugar.
Pulling them from my mouth, I brush my lips along her wrist and down her forearm. She closes her eyes, her whole body pulling tight and releasing.
“Want to run away, Chloe? Or do you want to spend the night with me?”
“I didn’t run. I walked out because your brother had a point. And you were drunk.”
“I’m not drunk now.” I wrap an arm around her waist and yank her to me.
Her knees tighten at my hips, the heat of her thighs cradling me as she crosses her ankles behind me and the heel of one foot digs into my muscle.
“But he still has a point. What are we doing? Is this wise? Do you think—”
“It’s a simple question, sweetheart.” Every other time I’ve called her that, I’ve been trying to irritate her into dropping her prissy act, but for some reason the word slips out sounding so normal. It rolls around my head as though I meant to call her that and intended it the way it sounded. Like she’s more than just my hot neighbor.
My hot neighbor whose legs are wrapped around my hips, and whose hands are exploring my body.
“Is it?” She’s not asking me, not really. She’s debating with herself. Her hands are on my chest, flicking at a flat brown nipple in a way that shoots directly to my balls. Palming her ass, I drag her over the bulge in my pants. Her skirt crinkles under my hand while I touch my lips to her ear.
“Two answers, you make a choice. No, you have dinner and go home.”
She whimpers as I roll my hips against her. “And yes?”
“Then I’m going to take the rest of these clothes off you and put my mouth to every inch of your skin. I’ll whip those panties down your thighs and fuck you with my fingers until you ask for my cock. Then we’ll do it again until you’re a dirty, sweaty mess. The only pole up your ass you’ll be able to think about is mine.”
“Are you trying to insult me?”
Cupping her breast in my hand, I enjoy the weight of it pushing into my palm. Insulting her now would be a daft move. Especially when my entire body is straining to hear her say yes. “Stating facts. That’s all.”
“Facts? You think you’re that great? Is this your big seduction routine?”
“Look, I don’t have some big plan. I’m not that guy.” Except maybe to fuck her in every room and on every surface of my house. Only stopping for necessities. And then there’s her house. It could take weeks. Now that’s a plan I can get on board with. Making this woman in front of me feel good over and over, making her come—definitely a strategy I want to put into action. Something I could see myself putting a lot of time and effort into.
I flick my thumb across a diamond hard nipple, and she arches with a hiss. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about having my face between your thighs. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about whether I’d be the dirty fuck that makes you scream.”
She swallows hard, her voice barely a whisper. “Yes.”
“Did you just say yes?” I’m rock hard from one word. Like concrete, and with my pulse racing and heating me up inside. My cock throbs with the need to take her, and I want to grasp her hand and put it on the bulge in my pants to show her what she does to me.
“Yes.” She clears her throat. “Yes, I’ll stay tonight.”
“Jesus.” I swoop in to kiss her. Her mouth melds to mine, our tongues dancing in a rhythmic parry while I pick her up and set her feet on the ground. My fingers brush up her exposed thighs, pushing her skirt up to her hips to reveal a thong that matches her bra. Turning her to face the counter, I wrap one arm around her waist and hold her to my chest. My cock pushes at her ass, and I slip a hand in the front of her panties. “You’re a vixen in h
iding, aren’t you? Under all your professional garb is a woman who needs to be dirty.”
She moans when I touch her clit. Immediately. Wet and swollen and needy. “It’s been… this isn’t … I don’t…” Another moan as I swirl my finger through her wetness and over the sensitive spot. “Do this.”
“But you want it.”
“You make me. Oh God.” Her knees shake as I slide one finger into her pussy. It clenches around me while I stroke her gently. Nudging her hair to one side, I nip at her neck, and she turns her mouth to me. Her breath is heavy, laced with need.
“I what?” I’m sliding my finger in and out of her, tracing her clit each time. And she bucks into my hand, silently pushing for more. No, not silently. She might not use words to tell me she wants more of my hand, faster, deeper, harder, but the air between us is filled with the squelch of our movements and tiny whimpers. “I make you want to what?”
“I don’t know.” Her hand creeps down my forearm to her panties and covers mine, pushing me deeper while she rubs against my palm.
“Get dirty.” I growl in her ear, my body responding to my brain imagining her saying the words. “That’s what you were thinking, right? I want to hear you say it.”
Moving a little faster, my fingers work her until it’s only my arm around her waist holding her up. She cries out as she pulses in my hand, and I kiss her again.
I linger over her mouth, turning her into me so that her hands are resting on my chest and the heat of her skin warms me. “I think we need to go to the basement.”
“Why?” she asks, as I scoop her up. I know she’s a grown-ass woman, but let’s face it, my legs are longer and I’m in a hurry. Besides, I want her mouth right where it is. On mine.
For now.
I chuckle. She’s probably going to be shocked, her eyes bugging out of her head, when she realizes the only condom supply in the house is the one she delivered.
“Believe it or not, I don’t go around fucking every woman I meet like you seemed hell-bent on believing. Condoms are in the basement.”
“Why would you keep them there?”
I put her down as we enter the area where I keep my gym equipment. There’s a punching bag hanging from chains attached to the ceiling in the far corner. My weight bench and free weights sit more in the middle of the far wall. Crossing to where some of my moving boxes are still stacked, I pick up the one from her prank.
She peeks over my shoulder at the sex doll’s wide mouth gaping out from under the foil squares. “Oh God, I can’t believe I did that.”
“It’s funny as hell,” I tell her, and it’s true. It wasn’t at the time, but her sense of humor is a beautiful thing.
“It was awkward and unwarranted.” She laughs. “But you started it.”
“Admit it. You were thinking about my dick when you did it. Your great idea came to you while you were lying in bed touching yourself to a fantasy of me.”
“Never.”
“What? You don’t touch yourself?” I pick out one of the condoms and put down the box before turning to her.
“I don’t fantasize about you.” She steps back.
“You don’t, huh?”
“No.” Another step.
“Not at all?” I follow where she leads. Behind her, a large sectional takes up most of the back wall.
“Not once.” Her knees hit the edge of it and I catch her.
“That’s too bad. I would have liked to hear what you thought about me doing to you. Maybe done a little re-enactment.” I turn her around and undo the zipper on her skirt before pushing it down her hips. “I guess you’ll just have to settle for whatever I want to do to you.”
“What do you want to do to me?”
I guide her to face me then crouch at her feet to peel that itty bitty thong down her thighs. She’s still wet, her pussy glistening and pink. I thumb her swollen clit. There is so not enough time for what I want to do to her right now. Unless I let dinner burn. To hell with it. Who cares if the house fills with smoke and the alarms start going off? I cup her ass in my hands and slide the tip of my tongue between her thighs. Hot, wet, heaven. My obituary will probably read, “died in a basement surrounded by kitty,” but I don’t give a hot damn.
I lick over every sweet inch of her pussy until she’s gripping my hair, pulling me closer and closer. When I look up at her, she’s watching me from behind heavy lids. Her mouth is open, and low seductive sounds tumble from her throat. With a groan, I bury my tongue in her, gobbling her up until her whimpers become whines.
“I need…”
Knowing she wants to say she needs my cock, even if she won’t actually spit out the words, makes me groan. Getting to my feet, I kiss her.
“You need me inside you, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Shedding my pants, I open the condom and roll it over my cock. The entire time she doesn’t take her eyes off me, off my erection. Gripping it, I work my hand up and down the length as I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close. The seriously shit thing, or perhaps it’s our saving grace right now, is that I’m not going to last long. I’m already so close because she turns me on like nothing else.
Pulling her onto my lap on the sectional, I brush my lips over hers while she takes me in her hand and sinks onto me. My heart thumps so hard, my breath catching at how tight and hot she is. I’ve thought about this so many times since that night in the bar, and it’s perfect.
“Jesus. You’re sexy.” Gripping her hips, I grind into her. Feel her suck me in, feel her inner walls stretching around me.
She closes her eyes, her hands to my shoulders, lifting herself along with me. Taking me deep and then easing almost all the way off.
“Oh shit, Paynt.”
I grasp her tighter. I’m so gone already. Hearing how close she is makes my balls heavy, and I grit my teeth while I slam into her. Her tits bounce in my face. Nipples like pink, shiny buttons point to the sky as she rides me, and I pull one into my mouth, licking at the diamond-like point while I push a hand between us to rub at her clit. Crying out from my touch, she shudders, her insides squeezing me.
I can’t last. She feels too good, too perfect.
Upstairs a timer starts to ding while hot pleasure shoots up my cock and I empty myself into her tight pussy.
For a few minutes we rest against each other. I can feel her pulse racing under the sweat damp skin when I squeeze the back of her neck.
“Is that dinging the oven?” She pushes herself up and wriggles off me.
My dick plops on my thigh with a wet splat. I’m already semi-hard and wanting her again. “Certainly is.” I peel off the condom and tie the top before wandering into the laundry on the other side of the basement to discard it in a bin. She’s back in her panties when I return with one of my sweatshirts to wear.
“Hungry?”
“Yes.” She pulls the soft fleece over her head and wraps her arms around herself, giving me a smile. And I’m absolutely certain I’ve never seen anything so damn sexy in my life.
***
“Do you think it’s the moon?” Chloe touches her hair, scooping it back from her face.
She’s been doing that the entire time we’ve been out on the deck eating dinner. Smoothing it back every time it falls forward, but I like the way it’s untameable right now.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Because it’s full.” She pushes her empty plate away. “Don’t they say people act crazy when there’s a full moon?”
“Trying to convince yourself that the moon made you have sex with me?” I gather up our dishes and stand up.
“When you put it that way it just sounds ridiculous.” She follows me inside where I dump the dirty plates beside the sink and grab the strawberries from the fridge. “I’m fully responsible for my own actions, but I can’t say I expected to end up wearing your sweatshirt tonight when I woke up this morning.”
“Maybe just enjoy it.” I scoop some of the fruit into bo
wls and add a dollop of cream before heading back outside. “Now come try some of this dessert you made.”
She crinkles her nose as she curls up in a seat beside me. “I don’t think so. That concoction can’t possibly taste any better than it sounded when you told me to put vinegar in it.”
“I promise you’ll like it a lot more than you think.” I scoop up one of the strawberries with my fingers and hold it up to her mouth. “Be adventurous.”
For a moment she contemplates the fruit in my hand. Then she gives in, her lips closing around my fingers as she takes the morsel and sucks the juice from my skin. “Oh wow, that’s … mmm.”
Eyes closed, head tilted back, she moans as she chews. I lean back, threading my hands behind my head and enjoying the view. Stars stud the sky above us, glittering bright. The night sky is a good part of what I like about living here, but I can’t tear my gaze away from the woman in front of me.
“That tastes amazing,” she says, opening her eyes. This time she doesn’t balk when I offer her a bowl. “It’s like an orgasm for your tastebuds. Who would have thought? What are they called?”
“Strawberries with balsamic vinegar.” The noises she’s making while she eats make me shift about uncomfortably.
“They should be called mouthgasms. No. Strawgasms.” She screws up her brow and pops another piece of fruit in her mouth.
“I’ve got a mouthgasm right here if you want it.”
Her laugh is surprisingly uninhibited. “You have a dirty mind for someone in computer programming. Isn’t that supposed to go against every nerdy fiber in your body?”
Leaning across the space between us, I take her face between my hands. “You would be amazed at how much tech heads know about the workings of the real world from hands-on experience. I’m just confident enough to admit what I want.”
Getting out of the chair, she drops to her knees in front of me, my sweatshirt barely covering her thighs. Her hands squeeze my knees and then scrape up my thighs to undo my pants and take hold of my cock.
In the quiet darkness, with flame shadows dancing over her face and making her eyes shine, she strokes the length of my erection and guides it to her mouth. Jesus, it’s a beautiful sight. Her lips part and the tip of her tongue flicks across the head and she makes a sound not unlike the noise she made over the strawberries.
