The Man Cave Collection: Manservant, Man Flu, Man Handler, and Man Buns

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The Man Cave Collection: Manservant, Man Flu, Man Handler, and Man Buns Page 20

by Ryan, Shari J.


  “You’re right. You did come clean about that.” Hearing him suffer through his words is something completely different. It’s a side of him I haven’t seen yet, and I kind of like it.

  “Before I tell you this secret, you have to promise me something . . .”

  “Anything, of course.” My God, this man has me eating out of his hand right now.

  “Promise you won’t have pizza with Sterling again.” There it is, the controlling aspect of this game.

  “Liam, I can’t promise you that. Regardless of what happens between Sterling and me, we’re friends.”

  I’ve officially friend-zoned two guys in one day, and I think that may be a new record for me.

  Though, I’m debating if I can even consider Liam a friend. It’s not like we’ve been exchanging funny stories and having nice conversations. Seeing as that’s been missing from this equation, I’m not okay with being told who I can or can’t see.

  “Fine, but . . . just keep an open mind, okay?” he concedes.

  “Mmm, I don’t know,” I agree. “But I think you should still tell me your secret.” Did that sound like I was begging? Yup. It did. I am.

  “Okay, okay.” He blows a long gust of air from his pursed lips. “Here it goes . . . I—” he squeezes his fingers around his temples with the appearance of suffering through this moment. Just say it, Liam. He’s beating himself up over whatever this is, geez. “I—I have a . . . fetish for . . .” He groans and sighs again.

  “What?” Where the hell is he going with this. “What do you have a fetish for?”

  “Red vibrators,” he says, as serious as anyone could be while something like this without cracking a smile.

  I close my eyes and nod my head, knowing I fell for another one of his stupid “games.” When my eyes reopen, he’s beaming from ear-to-ear, and I take the opportunity to hurt the palm of my hand by slapping his chest again. I already saw that this method of venting my rage was ineffective, but he’s making me so angry, I don’t know how to manage my emotions.

  He jerks back a bit, recoiling from my girly hit, and laughter bursts out of him. “I couldn’t help myself. It was too easy.” All of that, and he still has a goddamn secret I am now determined to figure out.

  “Just like you. You’re too easy,” I tell him again. He steps forward once more because there is no more space for him to move. He’s in my bubble again, hovering over me and making my heart beat so hard it might explode.

  “I play games with you because I think you might be able to play them back with me. You’re tough, funny, smart, and drop-dead gorgeous. So, you’ll have to excuse me for making you my prime target for torture.”

  “You’re still too good-looking for me to like,” I lie. Yeah, I like him. I liked that kiss. Hell, I loved that kiss. It’s been on the forefront of my mind for the past six hours now.

  “How do I fix this problem?” he asks.

  “Prove to me you aren’t a jerk.” There’s no way to prove that. I always find out after my heart has been handed over on a silver platter and wrapped with a bow that heartbreak will always come when least expected. However, any writing professor I had in college would tell me there’s no such thing as too much research when it comes to writing about a subject that expert knowledge is needed for.

  “I can’t prove I’m not a jerk because I’ve already proven that I am,” he tells me. “But I can tell you one thing, though . . .”

  “If it’s about my vibrator, I don’t want to hear it.”

  His hands reach over and cup my elbows as he pulls my body in against his. Clearly, my rule doesn’t prevent me from breaking it. Expecting him to say something as ridiculous as his fetish confession, he opens his mouth to talk and releases one hand from my elbow and places it under my chin. “I’ve never broken a heart. It’s always been my heart surrendering.” There’s truth in his eyes, and the only reason I think I know this is because I haven’t seen it there before.

  “So, you’re saying my rule shouldn’t apply to you?”

  His face lowers toward mine, bringing his nose to my nose. “I can give you several reasons why your rule shouldn’t apply to me.”

  “I’d like to know one of those reasons,” I tell him, maintaining little strength in this moment.

  He slides his nose in a bit closer and caresses his lips on mine, sending a shooting current down my spine. I want to press up on my toes higher than I already am to reach into more of the kiss, but he’s controlling every second of this, just as he’s been trying to control everything else.

  There’s one problem with that, though. I’m more controlling than he is.

  I loop my arms around his neck and jump up to wrap my legs around his wet waist. He scoops his hands beneath me, holding me in place as I show him exactly how I want to touch his lips.

  Feeling as though I’ve lost all my senses, I nip at his bottom lip, which somehow makes everything between my legs swell at the same time.

  Our kiss becomes fierce, and wild, though kissing him hasn’t been suppressed from the moment he threw me onto my bed. The electricity between us is the most powerful thing I have ever felt with a man, and there is no coming back from this. I know he can feel my heart pounding against his chest, and I want the feeling to last, to feel the rush as the warm breeze surrounds us along with the sound of crashing waves. Then there’s the scent. It’s changed and morphed into the salty fresh air along with the remanence of cologne or soap still saturated in Liam’s skin.

  His arms are woven tightly around me as he walks us back toward the path. Our lips remain in their tango all the way up to the house where he changes course and brings his lips to my neck. “What about—” I try to talk, but I have little air left to do so.

  “They won’t be back for a bit,” he says between kissing and sucking on my neck. He brings us into the house and manages to hike up the stairs with my body still tangled around him.

  I’m not going to lie…it’s hot.

  We end up in Liam’s room, and he closes us inside, pressing me up against the back of the door as his lips continue to do all the work while he explores every inch of my neck and exposed chest. “Is it too soon to want to rip this dress off?” he mutters against my collarbone.

  “No,” I cry out. “Please.”

  “Thank God,” he relents.

  He slips the spaghetti strap material off my shoulders and tugs my dress down until it falls to the floor. It’s a complete turn on when he takes a moment to glance down at my body, blatantly checking me out with approval as excitement shines through his eyes.

  I slide down against the door as he releases his grip from my waist, moving to my arms that he pins above my head. His body is pressed firmly against mine and his cock is fighting against my waist, bruising it with its hardness as his mouth softly snake around my neck.

  “It’s a good thing I have a lot of condoms,” he mutters into my ear.

  “It’s a good thing I told you to get extra-large, but I am on the pill with a clean bill of health,” I reply.

  “I’m clean as well,” he groans. “I just . . . I prefer to get dirty.”

  “I like dirty,” I whisper into his ear.

  My words urge him to move our party to the bed as his arm cradle me like we’re in a wild dance, spinning across the room until I land flat on my back in his beautiful man-scented bed.

  He peels his wetsuit off, revealing a stunning canvas of muscles and tattoos.

  Busy staring at his goods, I can’t help appreciating how nice his satin sheets feel on my bare skin, but they aren’t effective for lying still. As he climbs on top of me with a seductive look in his eyes, my head not-so-seductively slips off his pillow and lands beneath his chest. Oops. Um. This is—yeah.

  We awkwardly twist around as I try to pull my head back up to his pillow, careful not to knee him in the balls at the same time. I feel like I’ve done that at some point in the past. Coordination has never been my thing.

  “Okay,” I say, laughing timidl
y.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  Yes, I slipped on your satin sheets and almost fell through your legs, which would have worked out perfectly for you. I’m just great. No problem. Keep going. Liam reaches beneath my back, trying to unclasp my bra with one hand. Waiting for the release, I look around his room awkwardly while he unsteadily kisses my chest. My bra isn’t unhinging. Shit. This is the one that melted in my dryer, and the clasp is bent the wrong way and hard to detach. “Here,” I say, pushing up on my elbows, reaching for the back of my bra. Of course, not without shouldering him in the nose at the same time.

  “Oh, no! I’m sorry. Are you okay?” I reach up and touch his nose as he squeezes one eye for a quick second.

  “I’m good, I’m good. What’s going on with this thing?” he asks, still fidgeting with my bra.

  “It’s broken.”

  “Bras can break?”

  “Yeah, it’s super annoying.” More so when I can’t undo the damn thing myself either. Liam becomes impatient and pulls it up, sliding it over my head as my breasts slap against my ribcage. I feel like my nipples have been torn off, but it’s cool. Totally hot, actually. I’m doing the beached whale move as I try to kick my panties off and finally do end up kneeing him in the balls.

  A grunt followed by a soft moan tells me I’ve done a little damage, and he falls to the side, pulling his knees into his chest. “I’m sorrrrrrry,” I whine. “It’s been a while, I guess.”

  “Been a while?” He tries to laugh, but I think he’s still in pain. “When’s the last time you’ve taken your own clothes off?” Yeah, he has a valid point there.

  I cover my eyes, feeling a bit mortified.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. This happens to everyone.” That sounds like another great book title to consider.

  “No, it doesn’t,” I argue.

  “Just relax,” he whispers as he slithers down the center of my body, dragging his lips down to the bareness below. Liam’s stubble slowly scrapes against my inner thighs as he kisses up and down before centering his attention on the throbbing sensation inside of me.

  Before making any sort of contact, which I might cry for in a minute, he lifts his head, tearing the sheets away. “I don’t know what kind of men you’ve been with, and I don’t think I care, but I hope you can handle what I want to give you .”

  I’m seriously going to finish before he even touches me if he says one more thing like that.

  “Okay,” I whimper.

  His hands press against my knees, forcing them apart and nearly down flat against his bed. He places his weight on top of them and laps me up from one end to the other, making me cry out. His hand slides under my tailbone as he lifts me off the bed, angling me in an odd way. Strange as it is, though, I trust whatever he’s doing. I’m not going to fight it, at least.

  His tongue presses inside of me, twisting and turning around my clit, gently grinding back and forth causing only a pleasurable type of agony. He sucks in and blows cool air into me as his scruff continues to scratch the inner lining of lips.

  My body moves on its own at the loss of control. He’s driving the pleasure and governs everything inside of me. As his tongue continues pulsating inside, his finger explores an area no one has ever gone near.

  Nervous for only a moment, he wets the tip of his finger with the excess of what my body is offering him and presses it into the other free space below. That’s my ass hole.

  Scared and kind of loving it simultaneously, there is only a long five-second span of time that I can hold myself together. My cries have turned into screams, and I’m thrusting against him with every ounce of energy I have left. He presses his finger inside a little higher, placing pressure where his tongue meets on the other side, and I release into a puddle of nothing; panting, whimpering, hoping to God there is more where that came from because holy hell, I think I might have just died and gone to orgasm heaven.

  He pulls his face away, wiping his mouth off on his arm.

  “Do you want a towel?” I ask him, knowing he’s not only wiping my she-cum off on his arm, but his finger was just all the way up there. Now being a minute after the fact, I kind of shudder at the thought.

  “That’s all you have to say,” he laughs.

  “You stuck your finger up my butt . . . so I’m not exactly sure what the etiquette response is for that.” Why am I not embarrassed to say this out loud? This man literally just fingered my asshole, and I’m totally cool with it.

  “Thank you works,” he says with a sexy grin.

  “I don’t say thank you with my words, though. I like to show my gratitude.”

  Liam doesn’t struggle to switch positions with me as I end up straddling him, getting a better look at his impressive size, which was way smaller in my imagination. The only thing going through my mind now is how much that’s going to hurt me.

  “Has anyone ever told you how gifted you are?” I ask, probably blushing at the same time.

  “Yeah, every dude who towel-whipped me in the locker room throughout college.”

  “Ouch,” I laugh.

  “I’m not as talented as you are, so I want to set your expectations low.” I feel like it’s a fair disclaimer because I’m not sticking my finger up his butt. “I don’t think I’m very rough like you are, either.” Nor should I be down there after I just kicked him ten minutes ago.

  “Oh,” he says, letting his unfinished thought linger. “I wasn’t trying to be rough back there. I was just warming you up.”

  Speechless. I’ve just ended up in a situation I didn’t consider. “Everything is an experience,” my professors would always say. Even getting butt fingered I guess. Maybe I should offer it in return. I don’t want to be rude . . .

  “Look,” he says. “Just looking at you in this position could get me off.” His hands reach up and cup my dangling breasts as he squeezes firmly.

  I kiss my way down to his massive one-eyed monster and observe for a moment before going down. I shouldn’t be trying to figure out if my mouth is wide enough for that, but I think I’d feel a little better knowing it is before he tries to get that thing inside my other mouth. I clench and sort of ache at the thought.

  My lips barely fit around his girth but as I relax, my throat opens, and I impress myself with my capabilities. Licking, sucking, twisting, and squeezing his balls gently in my hand as I jerk him off with my other. I hear him huffing and grunting, grabbing the headboard of his bed and rattling it against the wall. His legs turn into stone beneath me and his breaths are hard and furious. Now or never, I guess.

  I remove my hand from his balls and dip it down until my fingers part his cheeks. Umm. I—I’m not loving this, but I poke one finger up, and he jerks upward into my mouth, letting his warmth slither down the back of my throat like a warm cream. Of course, I gag because the entire head of his penis is kind of lodged in my throat or feels that way, and I end up squeezing his shaft a little too firmly as I involuntarily spew his cum all over him and his sheets. No, no, no, no. Oh no. I suck. No, I can’t even suck at sucking. I just spit all over him after putting my finger up his butt. Who am I? What the hell am I doing right now?

  It all happens very quickly, but he pulls me off him and brings me up to face level, laughing softly. “You are something else.”

  I close my eyes, embarrassed to look him in the eyes. How am I going to look at him after this? What if we end up hating each other in a week, and I have to pass by him daily for the rest of the summer knowing he’s the only person in the entire world to have his finger up my butt? What have I done?

  “I’m not done with you,” he says. For some reason, this scares me, but whatever can erase the memory or cover up what just occurred, I might be up for.

  He returns me to my back and yanks my legs over his shoulders, thrusting into me before I have a moment to panic over his eggplant width fitting into my little peach size hole. Even after spitting his ejaculation juice all over him, I’m still pulsating from the last orgasm, but
at this rate, I might be happy dying from an overdose of Liam’s encouraging orgasms.

  Feeling an intense amount of resistance and stretching, he presses his non-butt plunging finger into his mouth and drags it down the length of his tongue, using it as a lubricant to spread me apart more, creating space for his painfully amazing size. His thrusts are slow but move effortlessly through the sea of wetness my body has prepared itself for. His fingertips pinch into my ass as he moves in and out at a slow pace. Already ramping up for another round of bliss, I grab the rungs of his headboard, holding myself still so my body doesn’t move along with every movement he puts into me. “You just made my vibrator sad,” I groan.

  “You just made me happy,” he responds, grinning down at me with an untamed look in his eyes.

  Without asking or warning, he flips me over onto my knees and slaps my ass pretty hard, allowing the sting to spread before pressing himself inside of me. This time, I feel the girth but focus on the remanence of the sting more. The second he re-enters me, he reaches around my body and pinches my clit between his fingers, forcing my body to buck against him. I cry out as I pierce my fingernails into his satin sheets.

  “Easing the pain is important, but distraction is always key,” he groans. His hands are locked on my hips, and he continues to work me like a mechanical bull, holding on tight and not letting go until his warmth fills me entirely, then pulls out and leaves a trail over the base of my back and ass.

  He flops down to the side of me and turns me onto my side, kissing me gently. “Wow.”

  “Yeah,” I breathe heavily.

  “I’m pretty sure we both need to take a shower now,” he says.

  “Oh, damn,” I play back.

  He lifts me up and quickly runs us into the hall, where we are greeted by Samantha and Daniel.

  So, things just got awkward . . . again.

  Even though I have cum dripping down the bottom of my back and into my butt crack, Liam is also butt naked with a boner the size of Texas, and the only thing I’m thankful for is the fact that my breasts are pressed up against Liam’s chest.

 

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