by S. E. Hall
I have to hold her hips down to keep her from writhing right off the table. “You like that, baby?”
“Mhmmm,” she hums, shifting her hips up, begging for my mouth to return.
I dive back in all too willingly, licking up her essence, getting off on the sexy noises she makes, the way she digs her fingers into my forearms.
“More, Zach. So close.” Her voice tremors, like her thighs.
I drive two fingers inside her and she winces just a bit. It’s a snug damn fit, and my cock twitches, wanting to feel that tightness for himself. I work her slowly, stretching her, just savoring the silken feel of her and the fact we’re once again, finally, acknowledging the undeniable connection between us. I stroke her until I hit the spot that has her thrusting herself faster against my hand and purring like a kitten.
“You wanna come just like this baby, or you want my mouth too?”
“Yes!”
My lip quirks up at her delirious non-reply. Guess I’ll decide for her, and my decision is “yes” to everything, dipping my head for more. To join my fingers.
I twirl my tongue around her clit, faster then slower, never stopping my fingers from rubbing the glory spot deep inside her. When her inner muscles are twitching and she’s chanting my name breathlessly, I grip on to the pulsing little nub with my teeth and hold it firm, flicking my tongue against it rapidly and press down harder with my fingers.
“Oh, fuck.” It’s one long wail, her head thrashing from side to side as she explodes in my mouth, coating my fingers and tongue with her silky, wet warmth.
My lil’ tiger, her blood boiling as red-hot as her hair and kiss-swollen lips, doesn’t stop and rest for a second, like most women would, sated and wanting to rest in the afterglow of her orgasm. No, my girl springs up off her back and pounces, attacking my mouth, neck, ear.
God help me, the ear. Or rather, what she begs, richly delicate in it. “Fuck me, Zach. Fuck me now.”
Our hands scramble together to get my shorts and boxer briefs off.
Bennett’s a very petite girl; thus the years of dancing standing on my feet, the rides at the fair we’ve never be able to ride together and the fact that all the top cabinets at her house are empty. And yet, there’s never seemed to be more of her than there does right now I want to feast between her legs forever. I want to lick every last inch of her skin. I never want to stop kissing her mouth and my hands itch to trace and memorize every part of her.
But she wants to be fucked.
And yeah, that’s definitely on my list too.
We can go slow next time.
I grip the base of my achingly hard cock and line up with her dripping wet center, easing in deliberately, eyes glued to where we join. “Mhmm, Zach,” she moans for me and I glance up, needing more than anything to see the look on her face as I enter her. Tears swim in her eyes and I freeze.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No,” she laughs faintly, which does insane things with her muscles currently encasing the head of my dick. “Actually, I finally don’t hurt anymore.”
My sweet girl. “I don’t either, baby. I don’t either.” I lean over her to kiss her lips, bracing my weight on my forearms bracketed on either side of her head, and infuse in the kiss my understanding of what we really just said to one another. No more pain, emptiness, longing that never comes to fruition. The wondering and insecurity can’t hurt us anymore; we’re together now.
Mouths melded, our tongues mingle and twist in cadence to my glides in and out of her. Nothing has ever felt more natural, more in sync. Her velvet to my steel, her tiny, soft body pliant and giving underneath my hard, big one.
She pulls up her feet and digs her heels into my ass, spurring me to go deeper, or faster, or both. “Make love to me later, all night. But right now, right now you fuck me hard Zachary Reece. I need it.”
I tried to control myself, take great care with her fragile, unpracticed body, but when the love of your life tells you to fuck her… you fuck her.
I interlace our hands by her head and lay farther over her, driving into her now like a rutting animal, primitive and uncontrollable. She matches my passion, constricting around me in a way that has me clinging to my endurance. She’s so skintight that there’s not one part of my dick not being cushioned and stroked by her. The exotic mixture of lilac, sweat and mind-blowing sex surrounds us and the little mewls and whimpers coming from her as I slide out to the tip then plunge back through her satiny walls with the force she pleaded for completely incinerates my fortitude.
I find her clit and tease mercilessly with my thumb, sucking on her tongue, making sure to hit her g-spot with every drive. “Ben, baby, come for me, with me. You close?”
Her answer is a loud shrill, that they may have heard over in the wedding tent, along with her full-body quake. I let my head fall back as I tumble over with her, a roar tearing from my throat as I empty years of denied hunger inside her.
Up You Go
“You cannot be serious.” I laugh, trying to squirm away. Not an easy feat when you’re pinned under the massive, glorious body of one Zachary Taylor Reece.
“Do I feel serious?” He says despite a mouthful of my breast, his still hard cock sliding suggestively against my pussy.
After what I’m hoping was a discreet escape from the catering tent, we’d come back here to his suite and loved each other again. But the second time, we’d taken our time, somewhat controlling ourselves and slowing down long enough for both of us to get completely naked so we were free to explore every single part of the other.
He’d made love to me. Unhurried and methodical. Skimming his fingertips along my skin, licking and kissing a path down, then back up my body as he paid me and my body praise in a rich, deep reverence. And… spent a lot of time making sure my boobs didn’t feel left out. In fact, he’s still hanging out there now; he seems to really like them.
“Zach.” I push on his head, trying to get him to detach from my nipple long enough to look at me, but he refuses to budge or be sidetracked. “As excited as my girl is you’re back, and very, very good to her, I’d like to be able to walk tomorrow. No sense in wearing out your shiny new toy all in one night.”
He is literally in the midst of a just-the-tip moment down there, I guess thinking I won’t notice.
I noticed.
“Ben.” I’d say he whines it, but the throaty way he turns my name into a plea is way too sexy to ever be called a whine. “Give me some choices, a compromise.” Look at him, so objective... while poking the tip in and out.
“You’re insatiable.” I snicker, pushing on him again. “How about this? Let me take a bath, soak things and while I do that, you order us some replenishments. Carbs, definitely carbs, and then we’ll see what happens.”
He pouts, hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen, because it’s not like a pooched out lip, bratty tantrum kind of thing, but more so a man on fire who’s about to combust because he wants you so badly telling you so with his frown. But, reluctantly, he agrees, giving me one more kiss that almost has me changing my mind, then climbs off me. “You want me to run to your room and get any of your girly bath stuff?” He asks.
God he’s magnificent, just standing there, comfortable in all his naked glory—with good reason. His hair’s skewed from my greedy hands and his sea-green eyes are sparkling. This trip has added a golden glow to his skin, stretched tight over sinewy muscles. Those broad shoulders, decorated with bold, dark ink, a trim waist and defined abs. Yeah, Zach’s a looker, no denying it.
And his hands rest on his hips, which are connected to the ridges that cut perfectly down to his dick, as big and beautiful as the rest of him.
“You rethinking that bath?” His flirty tone interrupts my perusal and I force myself to drag my eyes away from his physique to his face, where a smug smirk waits for me. “I love it when you look at me like that, Ben. Trust me, the feeling’s mutual.”
How did I resist him for so long?
“N-no.” I
lick my parched lips. “I need a hot bath. And yes, I’d love my stuff, if you really don’t mind running to get it?”
“Don’t mind at all, baby.” He starts to get dressed, and I dash for the bathroom, before I’m tempted again to change my mind. “Be right back,” I hear him call over the water I’ve started running in the tub.
As soon as there’s enough ran to sit in, I do so, easing myself down into the warm relief. Not gonna lie, I’m more than a little sore. It’s sort of like… say you were once a rock climber and for some reason you suddenly quit doing it, for years and years, then one day just decided to run out and scale Mt. Everest—without any warm-up climbs or stretching.
Feels a lot like that.
Not that I’m complaining.
Moreover, as I lower myself farther into the water, lying my head back to rest on the ledge and close my eyes, I have to wonder.
How am I so blessed? What did I ever do to warrant such favor from Heaven? You always hear people say, “God makes one special someone for everyone.” Well, he made two for me. He sent Tate into my life, or rather he sent me hall crawling into his room, and I was loved, well and truly. And I returned that love, completely. But then, when God obviously had another plan, one I thought would completely break me, shattering me into so many pieces I’d never be put back together… turns out, he didn’t forget about me at all. No, he just changed the plan… and sent me Zach.
And once again, I find myself well and truly loved. And I return it, have for years, completely.
God must really like redheads.
Or maybe he simply likes me. And wants me to be happy. And what kind of person would I be if I didn’t take that gift and pay it forward?
A shitty one.
Therefore, I’m gonna make Zach so damn happy, he won’t know what hit him.
“Ben!” I startle when he yells and jolt upright. “Damn baby, I just got you, so no drowning yourself in the bathtub please.” His laugh is facetious, worry lines on his forehead and around his eyes evident.
I guess I’d fallen asleep while the water was still running. Surely it would’ve woken me up when it got to my face, but once again... Zach’s right there when I need him.
“Okay sleepyhead, you ready to get out? Think we should get you to bed.” He doesn’t wait for my decision, pulling out the drain plug. “Up you go.” He lifts me from the tub and sets me on my feet. Grabbing only one towel for me, oblivious to the fact his own clothes are now soaked, he lets his eyes roam leisurely over my wet, naked body once then shakes his head as though clearing it from a fog. His voice is gravelly when he tells me, “I grabbed your shorts thing you like to sleep in too.” He points to the outfit on the counter as he dries me off, quite meticulously I might add, leaving no spot untouched.
“But I promised—”
“Shh.” He chastely kisses me quiet. “You didn’t promise anything. You said we’d see what happens. I saw. You fell asleep in the bathtub. Time for bed, gorgeous.”
Another thing “they” say, and it’s absolutely true: you don’t realize a good thing until it’s gone.
But when it, or something just as wonderful, comes back… that’s a real eye-opener!
I stand there, like a limp, sleepy rag doll as Zach takes care of me. Drying me off, helping me into my pajamas, even running a brush through my damp hair. We brush our teeth side by side, then he’s hoisting me up in his arms once more. “Up you go.” He smiles, kissing the end of my nose and carrying me to the bed.
He strips out of his wet clothes, back down to only his navy boxer briefs and climbs in beside me, tucking me into his side and pulling the covers over us. I drape one arm across his stomach and rest my head in the crook of his arm. “You set an alarm?” I ask.
“For what?”
“We fly home tomorrow. We’ll need to get up early to pack and stuff.” I sigh softly, a bit glum that it’s over. “You know it’s funny, seems like we were here forever, waiting for the wedding. But the minute it’s over, we’re leaving as fast as we can. Now that I’m officially exhausted, the work’s all done and I need a vacation, the vacation’s over.”
“Doesn’t have to be,” he says matter-of-factly, chin resting on top of my head.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s stay for a while, just me and you, alone.”
And he’s right, we would be alone. Sky and Judd aren’t even honeymooning here. I mean, why would they want to honeymoon in Jamaica, right? No... they’re going straight from this island paradise to, wait for it, Montana. See, married five minutes and they’re already compromising. She got to pick the beach wedding, he got to pick the wilderness honeymoon.
“What about work, stuff at home?” I ask.
His body shakes with his soft laughter. “Ben, the gym will run without you for a while, it’s why you pay a manager. And I don’t teach or coach when school’s not in session. And I guess you’ll have to fill me in on what this “stuff” at home is you’re talking about, cause, far as I can remember, neither one of us owns a pet.”
Oh, my God, he’s right. We have absolutely nothing stopping us. Suddenly, I don’t feel quite so sorry for myself that I’m old, or without young kids.
We could lounge around the beach, rubbing lotion on one another’s bodies, make love in the sand at dusk, order room service and eat it off each other. Hang the “Do Not Disturb” sign and sleep in as late…
And just when I had it all envisioned and was excited to agree to stay... jealousy rears her ugly head, fangs and claws bared.
“Or we could go somewhere else,” I start with a casual lilt, but end in a catty snarl, “where Tia doesn’t work.”
“Anywhere you want, baby.” He chuckles. “Name it. And who’s Tia?”
“Who’s Tia he says,” I grumble, poking him in the ribs. “Seriously though, you really wanna just pick somewhere and go, just like that?”
“I really do. Look at me, Ben.” I lift my head. He’s grinning down at me, the carefree mirth in his eyes stifling. “I love you, Bennett. I’ve been so in love with you for too long to remember and I’ll be in love with you every day for the rest of my life. If you ask me to, I’ll follow you anywhere. And if you ask me to lead, I’ll do that too, baby. Just say the word. Oh, and say you love me too.” He smirks.
I crawl over him and lay on top of his body, my ear directly over his thrumming heartbeat. “I love you too, Zach. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. To realize. Thank you for waiting.”
He rubs my back. “Totally worth the wait.”
“Liar.” I snicker. “It was torture and you know it. For me too. When I’m able to keep up with these sexathons you’re planning, then, you can say it was totally worth it.”
“So much more than that, Ben. You already know that though.”
I do know, but much like my body, my openness with profound statements of feelings will take some building up too.
“So,” I quickly change the subject, “where should we go? You lead.”
“Well…” He goes silent for a moment, I assume to ponder. “I have an idea, but you’re gonna think I’m being corny.”
“Guys always think “sweet” means “corny.” It doesn’t. Sweet is nice, and far too rare. Let’s hear it.”
“I remember this young girl.” He wraps both arms around me tight and whispers on my hair where his lips rest, “that was so excited when she got the lead in “A Street Car Named Desire.”
My eyes well up with tears and my heartbeat speeds up to an excited stammer. He remembers.
“She practiced and practiced, talked about it non-stop. She would’ve blown the audience away, but she never got the chance to take the stage because, like I’d soon come to learn more and more, she always puts others ahead of herself. Do you happen to know what city is depicted in that classic?”
I harrumph, albeit playfully. “Of course I know. Do you?”
“I do. You ever been?”
“No,” I utter, too overcome with emotion to spe
ak clearly.
“New Orleans it is then, baby.”
I lunge forward and latch onto his mouth, borrowing his breath because he just took mine away.
Suddenly, too excited and deeply moved to possibly sleep, I slip off my bottoms, pull his down and raise up atop him, lifting my hips and guiding him inside me. As I lower myself down onto his steel length leisurely, absorbing the feel of every inch, I tell him in a breathy, lust-laden voice, “Don’t ever stop doing sweet.”
Laney Jo Kendrick
When the DJ announces this will be the last song of the night, a bizarre combination of feelings wash over me and I freeze. On one hand, I’m relieved it’s over and my daughter got her dream wedding. But on the other hand, I can’t help but feel an immediate void, the sudden open spot in the nest leaving a hollow pull in my stomach; Skylar is married.
A million scattered thoughts, thanks and memories flash through my mind and finally make sense, meshing together into one big picture: happy.
Content, I bring myself back to the present and my eyes naturally seek out Dane. He’s already looking at me, much like I often turn to find him doing, and my serenity strengthens. He winks at me and mouths “it’s all okay, baby,” then begins dancing with my mom.
My dad, her “Pops,” grabs his Brynny to end the night dancing with his baby grandchild.
I spot JT, my only son and total Mama’s boy, dancing with Macie, and smile, glad they’re where I can see them and not off doing things I do not want to know about together.
And then… I find myself searching out the one person I really should share this song with— “Same Old Lang Syne” By Dan Fogelberg. God, what a great song.
It’s as if the fates planned it, because just as my eyes land on him, he’s already walking toward me.
