by Dee Ellis
Lola was damaged. I should be thinking about that. About how I don’t need to make it worse. Instead, I let myself believe I could make it better somehow. Fix it. Not fix her, exactly; I like Lola bright and colorful, loud mouthed and broken and sexy as shit. I want her just the way she is.
I should keep my distance. I know I won’t. I’ll push and pull and do whatever it takes because Lola is the first person who’s made me feel shit like this since... well, maybe ever. So, I go to her the moment she’s settled in across the hall. Because I’m a selfish fucking idiot.
Knocking at her door, knowing I’m bringing her trouble, I feel alive and alert and turned on just smelling her in the air. The door swings open and a giggling Lola peers up at me. There are smudges of some kind of clay on her fingers and a swipe of it down her face. Music is playing behind her and when her eyes light up, I want to drag her to the floor and fuck her to the beat.
“Hey, Pumpkin.” Lola drapes herself against the door, planting a hand on her curvy hip.
“Darlin’.” Since that night at the bar, we’ve teasingly called each other these pet names. I pretend I don’t want them to mean more.
“Fancy meeting you here.” Lola bites her lower lip, tilting her head at me, and I can’t stop myself.
I shove inside, sliding one arm through the one she has propped at her hip. I haul her against me and kick the door shut as I take her mouth. Lola lets out a soft, sexy sound as her other arm hooks around my shoulders. She tastes like candy, almost too sweet, but I eat it up.
There’s been plenty of lips against mine. I remember all their names. Until I taste her. Feel her softness melt into mine. As if she is giving in to me. The thrill of her submitting in the softest, simplest of ways unleashes the beast inside me.
Twisting, I pin her to the door, my hands moving as I kiss her harder when her body wraps around me. My tongue tangles with hers. My teeth bite at her bottom lip, and she moans. Then my hands have her shirt off, and I shove at the lacy bra she’s in.
“You’re so fucking soft,” I growl into her mouth, flicking my thumb at her nipple, “Your tits are so perfect. Fuck, you feel good baby.” Lola shimmies a little and her bra is gone and her flesh presses against me.
I hear a clock ticking and for a few seconds, I count the ticks. I need something to focus on, or I’ll lose my shit. I count the chirps her bird makes. Then she speaks and I lose my focus entirely.
“Off. I want to feel you, Hunter.” I obey without hesitation, bending one arm back to rip my own shirt off.
We both let out animalistic sounds as our skin meets, and Lola bites at my shoulder. Her teeth sink in deep and my cock jerks in my jeans. I love a little pain. Lola seems to realize this; her tongue circles the marks left by her teeth but her fingers tug at the piercings at my nipples.
Lola’s pretty purple eyes go indigo as she watches me. Her fingers move over my skin, one tugging at a piercing again as she licks her lips. I spot a line of tattoos over her shoulder, birds I think, and I want my lips there. And, I want hers on the very extensive artwork marking my own skin.
I know we need to talk about what this could mean. If it means anything, really. I know that, but I don’t stop to talk. Instead, I press my mouth to those birds. Lola gasps and my mouth is moving, lower. Lower until my lips close around a nipple.
Lola’s tits really are perfect; perky and soft, a good handful. One hand teases one while I tug at the other nipple with my teeth, swirling my tongue. As her hips rock against me, her pussy hot against my aching cock, I don’t know if she cares what this means either.
“Lola, I want to see you. Let me take you to bed. I’ve been dying to see you spread out, waiting for me to take you.”
This is true; for months, I’d fantasized about her in my bed, naked and hot, waiting for me to do what I want to her. It’s kept me up plenty of nights. I’ve resorted to fucking my own hand more than I care to admit to the imagery of her opening to me the way I want.
“Yes. Hunter, yes...” One hand shoved down my chest, aiming for my belt, her fingers making quick work of it.
“Darlin’, if you touch me right now—shit.” I don’t warn her in time because her little hand wrapped around my cock.
“I get to do the touching tonight, Pumpkin.” Lola laughed softly, and white-hot need tore through me.
My gaze dropped to watch her tug my cock free, her little hands unable to close all the way. We both watched as she began to pump me, my hands digging into her flesh. Damn, her touch felt unlike anything else I’d ever felt before. I hadn’t expected that. Had not expected this to feel so different.
Lola fell back against the door, dropping her hips just a little. It moves her just right, and all I need to do is rid her of her panties. Because that’s all that’s left to stop us. A ripping sound breaks the quiet, punctuated only by my heavy breathing and her soft moans.
“Not stopping again, Lola. Fuck I want you so bad, baby. I want to fuck you in your bed, or mine. But you keep that shit up, I’m bringing that pussy right down on my cock.” In the dim light, I can see her pink pussy; it’s tiny and wet and smells delicious.
“Who needs a bed?” Lola likes to deviate from the plan, I know.
“Lola,” I hiss out as her palm cups my balls, the other hand stroking me still, “You drive me fucking crazy. Let me return the favor.” My fingers skate from her hip to slip between her legs.
“Oh, God.” When I find what I’m seeking, her slit soaked and hot to the touch, we both groan.
“Goddamn, Darlin’. So fucking hot,” I stroke her lips a few times, spreading her stickiness over the soft folds, “and so damn wet. I’m going to bury myself inside this pussy and never come back out. I think I’d like to hibernate inside you, Darlin’.” We laugh together, before two fingers sink inside her and her hips buck.
“Yes. God...you do it so good. How do you...shit.” Now she’s breathing fast and pumping the hands wrapped around my cock to the same rhythm I’m pumping her pussy with.
“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re about to come, Lola. I need to see it. Give it to me again. Let me see it, Darlin’.” Lola bears down, rocking her hips and fucking my hand, and shit, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Hunter? Baby, I’m here.” It’s not Lola calling out to me, and I will her not to hear it; but, of course, she does.
Just like that, the orgasm we’re leading each other to disappears. Lola’s legs fall way, her hands shove at my chest as my fingers still curl and work her. When she whimpers, I know I’m pushing her too far. I know the moment is lost, and I’m terrified I can never get it back.
“Lola, baby, wait.” I want to talk to her. To explain. Anything to keep her looking at me with the need she was moments ago.
“Go. Stop fucking touching me and get out.” It goes quiet; so quiet that the sounds of me obeying fill the room. My fingers slide out of her wet, velvety heat, and I watch the light in her eyes dim.
“Darlin’, listen to me...” I knew we should have talked.
I came over to fuck her, to tell her how bad I wanted her, that I had been crazy all week after the fire. But, of course, we didn’t talk. I jumped right into the fucking, wanting her so bad it clouded everything. Like the fact that it’s Thursday.
The day my therapist visits. Therapist is a term I use loosely since she does listen to my problems and suggest solutions; but by the end of our sessions, I’m fucking her dirty. Did I mention she’s a sex therapist? Who is also a recovering sex addict, and thus, terrible at her job?
With the holidays, it had been awhile since our last visit. It sounded like she was here less for me, and more for my cock. Too fucking bad. I was literally seconds from burying my cock exactly where he wanted to be. My freaky therapist was not an option when he, and I, wanted Lola.
“Lola, baby, it’s not what you think.” I don’t bother to tuck my dick away as she slides away.
Which means my throbbing cock slips between her wet pussy for mere seconds
. I growl out a string of curses as my hips thrust against my will. Seeking that hot, slick softness like he’s starving for it. Lola moans but shoves at me again, her chin trembling.
“Doesn’t matter. This was a mistake. Last time was too.” That kind of stung, and my dick felt it too.
“Bullshit. You want me. I want you. We got some fucked up shit behind us, we both do. Doesn’t matter, Lola. At least, it doesn’t have to matter if we don’t let it.” I pressed behind her, palms cupping her breasts, mouth working down her neck. Fuck, her skin is soft and tastes like honey.
“Hunter...stop it. It does matter. Whatever is behind us, it’s a part of who we are. Which you know nothing about. You don’t know me at all, so how can you think you want me? Or expect me to want you?” I don’t stop touching her, even when we hear the knocks at my door across the hall.
“Oh, Darlin’, I know enough to know I want you. I know I want to fix whatever someone broke before me.” Her legs spread a little, and my dick slides between her lush ass, both of us moaning.
“I don’t need you to fix me. Or fix the damage. I don’t want that, Hunter.” We both knew she was lying, but right then, it didn’t matter.
“Sure, sure, Darlin’. Then let me have the damaged parts of you just the way they are. Fuck, you don’t know how good you feel. Nothing else has ever felt like this for me, Lola.” Her hips rock, sliding her pussy over my pulsing dick.
“I know. God, I do. Why does it feel like this?” My hands cup her tits and lift them, my head dipping so my tongue can flick at the nipples.
“I don’t know, baby. I don’t, but I want to find out what else this can feel like.” One hand dropped, cupping her heat and sliding between her folds.
“Don’t. Hunter, please. Don’t. I can’t think right...” That’s exactly what I wanted. For her not to think for a moment.
Not to think about whoever had damaged her. The woman who had damaged me. Just this. Only this, and us, and why this felt so fucking good. And so Goddamn different.
“Don’t then, Lola. Don’t think or question or wonder. Just let me have you right now. Have me. I’ll let you have me however you want me, baby.” I began stroking her again, and she melted into me.
Lola angled her hips, and I hissed out a curse as the head of my cock met her center. It was soaked and hot, and I nudged inside. Just enough that we both gasped. Fuck, I wanted her. More than this, but right then, I wanted her so bad I couldn’t see straight or think right.
“Hunter, baby,” That fucking bitch in the hall ruined it again, “It’s been weeks.” Lola twisted her hips, circling her sex on my cock, and I almost plunged deep inside.
“Go. You want me so fucking bad, Hunter Byrne? Start with ending the badge bunnie parade pounding at your fucking door. Goodnight.” Lola twisted her head, kissing me deeply as she let me sink just inside her heat once more.
“Don’t come back till I ask you to, Hunter.” Then she was gone; out of my arms, off my cock, and down the hall.
“God damnit, Lola!” I roared after her. My hand went to my dick, stroking her wetness down the length.
Left with an angry cock and a warning from Lola, I left. I would go to her whether she asked me or not, Goddamnit. Because she fucking wanted me too. But, she was right; I’d had my fun with the bunnies and that needed to end first.
Once I stepped into the hall, I second-guessed that. It was brief, but it was there, though. Paige, my would-be therapist, was draped against my door in a trench coat and knee-high leather boots. I knew she would either be naked beneath it, or wearing just a collar and a diamond studded plug in her pert little ass.
For the briefest of moments, my cock considered taking her in place of what I really wanted. Then I thought about that fire; about how I had felt waiting in that room for Lola to wake up. Sure, I wanted to fuck her just this side of a coma.
The idea of losing her, though? It had absolutely terrified me.
That meant something, and even if I wasn’t ready to consider just what, I also didn’t want to fuck it up. Tucking my dick in my jeans and crossing the hall, I sent Paige on her way. Even after she opened that coat, spinning to show me I was right about that little plug. I couldn’t do it; and what’s more, my dick didn’t want to.
“No more Thursdays, Paige. No other days either, actually. I am a cured man. Your brand of therapy is not needed any longer, honey. I told you this shit was ending someday. Today is that day.” It had been just over a year since we’d met, and those Thursdays were infrequent at best.
“I guess I understand. Not even one more session for old times’ sake? It’s been so long, baby.” The coat was still open, her bare pussy and full, fake, tits in my face. I wondered why I didn’t feel tempted.
Taking a deep breath, my lungs filled with her. Not Paige’s flowery scent. Lola. The smell of her coated my skin; her minty-freesia-clay scent, the smell of her shampoo and the sweet, decadent smell of her arousal. I had my answer.
We were, in fact, damaged souls, and this was not going to be easy. It might even end the moment I got a taste of her. That’s usually what happened. But, I doubted it. It was going to happen, and that’s all that mattered to me right then.
“No dice, Paige. Sorry, honey.” I backed into my apartment and, with one last look at the jewel sparkling from her between her cheeks, closed the door on that.
Two hours later, once I had finished what Lola had started on my cock, I knew it was right. I wasn’t so good at right and wrong, not anymore. Once, I thought I knew how to get it right, though. I thought I might be able to do it again.
You do what you can to give someone else something worth holding on to. Might fuck it up from time to time. Maybe even hurt that someone. But when you do, you learn. Because hurting them hurts you too. I forgot what it felt like to think about someone else first.
Now, lying in bed, that’s all I was doing. Thinking about Lola and how I didn’t want to hurt her. How badly I wanted her. Wanted what I felt when she was in the room with me. When I was close to her and she laughed or let me touch her.
My phone chimed and I twisted in bed to check it.
“I am damaged. I don’t feel like my pieces fit right. Not like they used to. When I’m around you, though... they fit better. Almost right.” It was Lola.
“Something broken never pieces together just right again. Doesn’t mean it can’t still be beautiful. I don’t want to fix your pieces because I like them broken, I think.”
“Did you fuck her? I won’t be angry. I just... I need to know.” I smirked, my hand going to my dick as it jerked.
“Darlin’, no. My cock still had you all over it. Don’t think he had enough, though.” I began stroking and laughed when I got her next message.
“My mimsy got a taste too. Starving now.” A photo of her pussy, two fingers plunged deep inside, came through and my stroking picked up.
“Mimsy, huh? Well, Lola Bear, I’m right here. Come feed me your mimsy. You can get a mouthful of my cock, while you’re at it, Darlin’.” I groaned as I pumped my cock, thinking about the hotness of her pussy and how I had nearly been deep inside her.
“I didn’t ask yet, Pumpkin.” Another photo came through.
Lola was curled up in bed, that fucking bird perched on the headboard of her bed. Her beautiful face was flushed, her eyes sparkled and her lips were curled in a sexy smirk. I’d seen her come once and this was that face. Fuck. Lola made herself come while we talked.
“I can wait. Because, baby, you will ask.” I jerked a few more times then came, spurting into my hand and boxers.
“I might. Let’s see, huh? Night, Pumpkin.” Breathing hard, I sent her my own photo then one last message.
“Let’s see. Night, Darlin’.”
I couldn’t wait for her to ask, because we both knew she would. Until then, I was waiting. Just like I said. Even if I didn’t know what this was, or where it could lead, I knew one thing.
I’d wait, because I’d do whatever Lola asked of me
. Even if I got damaged all over again.
6
“I mean...it’s crazy, right? It’s totally crazy. You can tell me if it’s crazy. I know it is.”
“Lola. Breathe. Relax.” Gigi laughed from beside me, nudging me with her chopsticks.
“It is not crazy. Hunter Byrne is one sexy motherfucker.” Charli dipped her sushi into her tiny dish of soy and popped it into her mouth.
“Cage would kill you.” Gigi leaned forward on the one side of me, pretending to glare at Charli.
“Mmhmm. Abso-fucking-lutely, he would. But I mean, so would Finn. I distinctly recall a fantasy involving his bald head and your lady bits.” Charli leaned forward too and used her chopstick to flip a giggling Gigi off.
“Ladies. Behave. Besides, that bald head and that huge cock are mine. Or they will be. Because it’s not crazy, right?” I shoved my sushi around on my plate as I pouted.
The three of us got together at least once a week, and this week, Charli chose sushi. After catching up and talking a little about both of their weddings, which I was proud to be a part of, I had fallen quiet. Then I had just blurted it out.
“I think I’m falling for Hunter!” They seemed less than surprised, which had led us here.
“How do we make crazy happen, Lola?” Gigi asked as she swirled her Uni around in her soy.
“I don’t know. Am I ready to handle someone like Hunter? I mean...I....uh...confession time, I suppose.” The laughter softened and both girls turned towards me; when they each took one of my hands, I nearly sobbed.
“Lola, sweetie,” Charli spoke first, like always it seemed, “We love you. Adore you, actually. We know you keep secrets. All of us do, I suppose. Nothing you tell us changes this.” They both gave a squeeze of my hand, clarifying what ‘this’ was.
“Never. Doesn’t matter what confessions you make or what skeletons you and Gerdie keep locked up. We love you, Lola.” My head bowed as emotion swept over me.
