by Molly McLain
I know that sounds sad, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Right now, I’m a desperate, horny mess.
“Okay, I’m here,” she informs me. Her voice is soft, like a breathy whisper, and I’m not quite certain how it’s possible but I’m even more turned on. “You know, last night I dreamed we were making love.”
“Really? You were having a sex dream about me?” I offer a throaty chuckle and grip the base of my engorged shaft.
“Well, duh. I have those kinds of dreams all the time. Especially when the space next to me in bed is empty,” she says quietly.
Her words hang in the air and we’re both silent for a few moments. I hate being away from her and I silently vow this will be my last tour for a very long time. Music will always be there. I need to stop and remember what’s important. I love performing, but I love my wife more than anything else in this world. It’s time I start practicing my vow to always put her first.
“Did you find a comfortable place to sit?” I wait for confirmation before continuing. I hear a few muffled sounds and then she answers yes. “Are you alone?”
“Yes, but it’s really busy in here so I can’t really do… Well, you know.”
I hiss through my teeth, hating that we can’t do this together, but my aching cock reminds me I need this release. If I don’t take care of things now, I won’t last long when I finally sink inside her later this afternoon.
“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” I promise and she chuckles softly.
“You better,” she says, her laugh sounding a little deeper this time.
“So,” I squeeze some lube into my hand and give myself a good stroke to spread it around, “tell me more about this dream.”
“Well, you were beside me. Touching me—” Her voice drifts and I’m pretty sure a blush has just spread across her cheeks. I hate that I’m not there to see it. I love when my girl blushes. I also hate that I’m not there beside her, doing all the things she imagined I was doing to her.
“Where was I touching you?” The words come out sounding raspy as fuck, but I don’t care.
“You really want me to answer that question?” she asks in a teasing voice.
I chuckle deeply into the phone and roll my palm over the tip of my slick cock. “Oh, yeah. I don’t just want you to answer. I need you to answer.”
“Well, your hand was splayed across my stomach and your thumb teased my right nipple in soft, slow strokes,” she whispers.
“What else?”
“The tip of your pinky snuck beneath the waistband of my panties.”
I blow out a shaky breath and press her to continue. “And what were you doing while I was touching you?”
“Begging you to go lower,” she quietly admits.
“Baby, I promise you won’t have to beg. I can’t wait to get my hands and mouth on you. My dick is so hard right now. My hand feels good, but nothing compares to how good it feels when I’m buried deep inside you.”
Her breath hitches and I can hear her swallow. “My panties are already damp,” she whispers. “If I was there what would you be doing to me? Describe it to me.”
I chuckle wickedly. “That’s easy. I’d dip two fingers between all that wetness and pump slowly in and out until your hips start rocking and your legs thrash around on the bed. I’d tease that tight little clit with my tongue until your knees clamp around my head and you explode inside my mouth.” I pause to let that sink in. The gentle sound of her throat clearing tells me I’m already getting to her. “You like when I lick your pussy, don’t you, baby?”
“You know I do,” she admits quietly. “Just imagining it gets me hot. The feel of your scruff brushing against my thighs while you do wickedly delicious things to my body. Keep going. What would you do next?”
A low growl comes from deep within my throat. I love the needy sound of her voice. Knowing how good it’s going to be when I’m finally between those creamy thighs.
“Well, I’d kiss my way back to your mouth, giving you a chance to taste yourself on my tongue as I move between your legs and slide my needy cock inside your sweet pussy.”
Soft moans slip past her lips in a staccato rhythm. I know the anticipation of what I’ll say next has her on the brink of losing it. I picture how beautiful she must look, all flushed and turned on, and I pump my hand faster.
“Holy, fuck,” she rasps. “I love the sound of you jerking off. I can just picture you with a bottle of lube and your tattooed hand gripping your cock. Just listening to you is going to make me have an orgasm. Are you close?” She groans and I join her as I work faster to reach my release.
God, I love phone sex with this woman. Things have been so crazy lately, and six months ago she admitted she’d like to try getting pregnant. Fuck. We’ve been trying hard for six months without any luck. I’ll admit, after awhile sex became more of a chore and each month we would wait to see if her cycle would come. I always knew the day it did because I’d find her quietly crying in the guest bedroom. Seeing her that way damn near kills me.
“Oh my god. Sebastian, I’m coming.” Her soft whimpers send me over the edge and we climax quietly together even though we’re still miles apart. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper and sink deeper into the pillow. “Think anyone knew what you were up to?” I reach over and grab a t-shirt to clean myself up with.
“I don’t know. Maybe. At this point, I don’t even care. I just want to get to Vegas and pick up where we left off. Hearing you come only made me want you more. God, I miss you so much.” I hear talking on the overhead PA and she wraps up the conversation. “I have to go. They just called for my flight to board. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Babe,” I interject before she ends the call. “I hope you know how much I need you.”
“Yeah, I do. I need you just as much,” she answers quietly. “See you in about an hour. I hope you’re ready for me by then.” With that, she ends the call and I make my way to the shower.
Oh, sweetheart. I guarantee I’ll be ready.
Brooke
“Sorry,” I apologize to yet another person I’ve bumped into while fighting my way through the crowded Vegas airport.
I step to the side and dash off a quick text, letting Sebastian know I’ve finally arrived. He immediately replies.
YES! A driver will be waiting outside baggage claim to bring you to the hotel.
Butterflies flutter low in my belly and I can’t help feeling both nervous and excited about meeting my husband for a sexual rendezvous. We’ve never done anything like this before—sneaking off for the sake of fucking each other’s brains out—but that’s what I intend to do. By the time I board a plane back to L.A., Sebastian Miles will think twice before agreeing to leave me for an extended period of time.
At some point the crowd begins to thin and I follow the overhead signs pointing the way to baggage claim. Normally, I would only pack a carry-on for an overnight trip, but right after our time together I will be right back here boarding a plane to New Orleans to visit one of Max’s restaurants located in the French Quarter. I’ll spend two nights there observing dinner service and going over sales reports with the GM.
After what feels like the longest walk ever, I arrive at baggage claim and head toward carousel number four where it looks as if suitcases have just begun to circle the conveyor belt. I look around and spot an empty space located between two blondes who appear to be about my age. Both dressed to the nines, as if they are leaving here and heading straight for one of those high dollar shows I’ve often heard customers talking about. In fact, when I told a few of our regular diners where I was headed they each recommended I try to catch one of the Cirque du Soleil shows. Maybe that’s where these two ladies are going.
I step between them, feeling sorely underdressed and slightly unkempt compared to them. I self-consciously lift my hand and smooth back a few wayward strands of hair that have fallen over my eyes. I run the pad of my ring finger under each
eye to wipe away any mascara smudges. It’s not that I’m overly vain. Honest. But ever since Sebastian and I got married it’s as if I’m constantly being photographed and judged. I find it quite sickening the way the paparazzi skulks around snapping photos of people’s private lives. Those idiots even took pictures of my husband taking out the garbage. Seriously? Who gives a flying fuck about that shit? As a society are we really that bored with our own lives that we find joy in discovering that famous people are capable of carrying their own trash to the dumpster?
As I watch various colors of bags circling the carousel, I feel the stares of the women on either side of me. I’m wearing my favorite leggings in a black and white pattern topped with a white off-the-shoulder sweater and black tank underneath. Black, high-top Chuck’s complete my ensemble. In their eyes, I probably look like I’ve just crawled out of bed. But I’ll take what I’m wearing over their buttoned-up blouses and dress slacks any day.
I rock back and forth on my toes and drag a hand over my thigh, sighing at the buttery smooth softness of my leggings. Barbie on my right moves behind me to join her friend. Their heads come together and I hear muffled whispers. Really, they’re not muffled at all. It’s as if they actually want me to hear them. These women don’t intimidate me. Nope. Not in the least.
Fucking judgmental twats.
Barbie #1: Do you see what she’s wearing?
Barbie #2: Ugh, I know. Who wears LLRs without boots? So tacky.
Tacky? Excuse me? Since when is wearing a white shirt and red bra considered classy?
Barbie #2: And that hair?
Barbie #1: Right? No way the curtains match the carpeting.
That’s it! I spin on my heel, right fist clenched, ready to strike. Verbally, of course. But I dare them to say one more word or I’ll…
I open my mouth to unleash my fury but something over their shoulder catches my eye and I’m rendered speechless. Sebastian Miles is truly a sight to behold.
Inky, black hair. Piercing blue eyes. Tattoos that fill both arms and snake past his knuckles. The overhead lights catch the metal viper bites, making them sparkle when his lips spread into a sexy smile. He takes a step toward me and immediately my heart begins pounding against my ribcage.
The Barbies’s chatter starts up again, but this time there’s no trace of judgment present.
OMG! Do you see him?
He’s fucking gorgeous!
True. But I saw him first.
No way! We saw him at the same time!
“Sorry, ladies. But I saw him first,” I gloat as I brush past both of them and leap into my husband’s arms.
Strong hands roam the length of my thighs before his fingers dig into the tender flesh of my backside. Without a word, his mouth covers mine, tongue sweeping past my lips to tangle with mine. Doing his best to claim me in front of every man, woman, and child close enough to witness our outrageous display of affection. I hear a collective gasp behind me, followed by a set of muffled whimpers. Without looking, I already know who’s making those sounds.
Eat your heart out, girls. He’s sexy as sin. Knows how to fuck. And he’s all mine.
Sebastian
Sweet Mother of everything holy…
I’ve missed these lips. Without care for who may be watching—because, let’s face it, someone is always watching—I continue to suck and nibble on the sweet flesh of her kiss-swollen lips. Telling myself we should probably put an end to the PDA and hurry the fuck back to the hotel where I can kiss her as long as I want. Anywhere I want. And I’m dying to kiss her all over. I slide my hands over her ass one final time before setting her feet back on solid ground.
She steps back to get a good look at me then her lips curve into a shy smile. “I thought you were sending a driver to pick me up?” The tip of her finger traces over the tattoo that runs down my forearm. For a moment, my eyes follow her movements until I look up and meet her softened expression.
“Yeah. That may have been the original plan, but once I heard your voice I knew I couldn’t stay away. It damn near killed me to wait around that lonely hotel suite without someone to cuddle with.” I snake an arm around her waist and steer her over to the conveyor belt so we can locate her suitcase and get the hell out of here. “Pink or black?”
“Is that even a question?” she asks with an arched brow just as I spy her favorite cotton candy-pink suitcase. I knew better than to ask that question. Pink is her signature color. I reach for it and sneak another kiss before turning back around.
Out of the corner of my eye I catch two women watching our interaction very closely. These are the same two bleach blondes that were standing next to Brooke when I first arrived. At first glance I assumed they were being friendly. The way they’re glaring at her now tells me maybe I was wrong. That pisses me off a little bit.
“Hey,” I cup her cheek with my palm. “Don’t turn around, but those two Barbie’s you were standing with earlier. Do you know them or something?”
“God, no. They were being bitchy and judgmental so I put them in their place. Why do you ask?” Her eyes narrow suspiciously and when she goes to look over her shoulder I stop her by cupping her face with both hands. She opens her mouth to protest but I cut her off with a heated kiss. When we break apart I notice the Barbie’s are long gone.
“Whoa. I don’t know what prompted that, but I loved it,” she says with a flirty giggle. “I can’t believe I’m finally here. Where to now?” she asks innocently as if we both aren’t wondering the same thing.
Sex in the car, or can we hold out until we make it back to the hotel?
We walk hand in hand through the crowded airport as we make our way to the limo I have waiting outside.
Brooke turns to me, one brow arched in playful judgment. “A limo?”
“Why not?” I shrug. “I couldn’t stand another second in that empty hotel room. I had to come. I knew once I saw you I’d have a raging hard on that would make it difficult to concentrate on driving.” I shift her hand in mine and place it over the bulge in my pants to prove my point. “See? All my focus is in the wrong head for driving.” That confession earns me a giggle and she shifts her position but her hand never moves.
Her beautiful blue eyes turn up to meet mine. “Sebastian,” she says on a breathy whisper. She leans forward and her warm lips brush against my neck. “Sebastian,” she says again while her perfect mouth works its way along my jaw to whisper in my ear. “I. Want. You.”
“You do?” She nods in response. I pull back and cup her chin in my hand. “You want me to fuck you in here?” Her head moves softly from side to side. “So, no limo sex? What about limo foreplay?” Her eyes shift nervously between the divider and me. “I promise, he has no way of knowing what’s going on back here.”
“Well, in that case.” The palm of her right hand presses further into the hardness straining behind the dark denim and as much as I hate to do it, I cover her hand with mine to stop her from going any farther.
“As much as I love it when you touch me, I have something else in mind.” I smooth my hand over her thigh, past the curve of her pelvis and stop when I reach the bare skin of her flat belly. My fingers tease the waistband of her leggings then dip inside her panties and ease a finger inside.
“Sebastian,” she purrs in my ear when I pull out to spread her arousal over her heated folds. Her breath hitches as she squirms in the seat beside me.
A chuckle rumbles from deep within my chest. “Good?” She hisses when my finger slips back inside, but I don’t stop at just one. I keep going, adding more until there are three fingers languidly pumping in and out. I take my time. Drawing out the seduction as long as I can before I finish her off. The tip of my thumb teases her clit until her head falls back against the seat and her bottom lip is sucked between her teeth.
“Sebastian.” She murmurs this over and over again. With every push and pull of my fingers, my name is repeatedly spoken on her lips like a quiet prayer.
“Oh. Oh, god. That feels s
o…” She fists the edge of the seat. Nails digging into the leather as she rocks against my hand. My hand pumping in and out of her at a furious pace.
I circle my free arm around her and pull her into my lap, never slowing in my relentless pursuit to make her come. My legs fall to the side and she sinks down between them until her ass comes to rest on my aching cock. I lower my mouth to her ear and gently draw the lobe between my teeth.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” She answers with a long, drawn out moan and a flick of her hips. I speed up the circling motion of my thumb and practically feel the tiny bud humming beneath the pad of my finger. Using my free hand, I grip her knee, preventing her from bringing her thighs together when her orgasm hits.
Her lips part but no sound follows. Her body sags into me just before her pussy contracts and coats my fingers with her release. I wait for her breathing to return to normal before extracting my hand from between her legs. Her eyelids flutter open and she turns her head to meet my awaiting lips.
“You know something, Miles? You sure know how to make a girl feel welcome. I hope that’s only a small taste of what’s to come,” she purrs against my lips.
“I promise, there’s more on the menu.” I give her a wink before bringing my fingers to my nose and inhaling deeply. “So, fucking good,” I growl, slipping a finger between my lips to suck on. Brooke surprises me by taking my hand in hers and lowering her mouth over my middle finger. Taking it clear to the back of her throat and licking it clean.
“I agree. So. Fucking. Good.” She threads her fingers through my hair and pulls me back to her mouth. I taste her on my tongue and I’m certain she can taste herself on mine. As the kiss deepens, I can’t help but wonder what other surprises she may have in store for me on this visit.
