Hide: Downunder Ink Book 2

by Bronwyn Stuart

  He nods in our direction and walks back to his patrol car.

  Jen is chuckling and whispers, “Imagine if they were a few minutes earlier.”

  I’m pretty sure you can be charged for sex in public but I don’t say it out loud. “Get in the car, mischief.”

  She lets me help her hop to the passenger side, I open the door, she climbs in, grabbing her leg from the driver’s foot well. I give the officer a short wave, get in the car, get the hell out of there.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jen

  When I asked the universe for a fuck buddy (begged actually), I had no idea it would come with so many distractions. I honestly thought I’d have an earth-shattering climax and then be able to think straight again without wondering about the semantics of it all endlessly. Now I know sex without a lower leg is just about the same as sex with it. I know Ben won’t cringe away from my stump which gives me hope that other guys in the future will also accept ninety-three percent of me.

  I know now that I can get on my knees under a table with only a bit of awkward manoeuvring.

  I take payment from my early morning client and then head back to my cubicle to clean up and get ready for the next booking.

  Conner is sitting in my seat with his fingers intertwined behind his head. “You’re extraordinarily happy this morning, Jen. Care to share?”

  We’re like one big family here. Everyone usually knows everyone else’s business but I’m still keen to keep this one to myself. Especially since most of the guys here know Ben and how uptight he’s been about tattoos. About me.

  I’m still thinking about a credible white lie when there’s a slight pressure on my spine and a warm but firm touch. I spin to see Jack wearing a dark frown.

  “Where’d this bruise on your back come from?” my sister asks me.

  Conner jumps out of my chair and physically turns me so he can see it under my ring light. “What the fuck, Jen?”

  I shake them both off and look at it in the mirror by my workstation. My koi has changed colour and I grin. It’s only light but it’s there.

  “Did you fall?” Jack demands.

  “Did a guy do this to you?” Conner chucks in. “I’ll kill him.”

  The world tilts a bit and then rights itself but it’s a darker day for me after that. One of my sisters thinks I can’t stand on my own and my friend thinks I’d get involved with a wife-beater after what Jo went through? “Are you two hearing yourselves? I’m a grown-arse woman, I can take care of myself.”

  Conner swears again and Jack says, “Heard that before.”

  “Surfing lessons,” I blurt out before they get any more ideas.

  Jack scoffs. “What? That’s a lie. You can’t surf.”

  “I can do anything I damn well want to do.”

  “So, the bruise is from surfing?” Connor asks.

  “Not exactly.” As much as I want to lie to them, I can’t and don’t know how to make it sound plausible.

  Jack gives me one of her famous older sister glares. “You better spill. Now.”

  “Or what? You’ll get your gun? Jesus, Jack, I’m fine.”

  “You keep saying that and yet you’re hurt. An idiot can tell something is going on.”

  “She’s been grinning all morning,” Conner pipes up with.

  “I was happy.”

  Jack lays her hand out, palm up. “About?”

  “For fuck’s sake you two, I got nailed last night, okay. On a bonnet. A not-so-curved bonnet. I didn’t know it would leave a mark.” I had sex on the floor once and had a carpet burn so bad I had to put after-sun lotion on it. This one I didn’t feel. I only felt Ben’s cock in me, his hands on my ass, my legs, my tits. I definitely didn’t feel the hard edge of the raised metal.

  A long whistle comes from the direction of Ash’s cubicle. I could have said it a little quieter.

  “You going to tell me who the guy is yet?”

  I shake my head at my sister. “Nope. He is going to give me some surf lessons though, see if I can stand up on the board.”

  “Listen,” Jack starts, “I’m glad you got yourself some but being out in the ocean? Are you sure that’s smart? Surfer guys are notoriously flaky too. What if he hurts you? What if you’re not ready.”

  I grab her by the shoulders and give her a shake. “Would you listen to yourself. You’ve all been telling me to hook up with a random on Tinder but when I do hook up with someone, it’s doom and gloom. He’d a good guy. And we’re not hitting thirty-foot waves. I haven’t even touched a board yet. We’re taking it slow.”

  “And fucking on his car?”

  I smirk. “And in his car.”

  Connor gives me a high-five and says, “You’ve got it. She’s got it. Go out and get as much as you can.”

  Jack still isn’t convinced and I can’t tell if this is the little sister/big sister routine or if she honestly thinks I can’t make smart choices in life because I made one bad one for a good reason.

  She hugs me and whispers, “What if something happens to you?”

  I sigh and squeeze her back. “It won’t but if it will make you feel better, I’ll write his name and number down and leave it on my kitchen bench at home. That way if I go missing, you can give it to the cops.”

  She shakes against me and I hope she’s laughing. When she pulls back, she punches me in the arm. “Smart arse.”

  “I really am fine. I feel good. Better than good.”

  “Orgasms will do that to you,” she says.

  I punch her back. “How would you know? When’s the last time you had one?”

  “I’m too busy taking care you of you guys and the shop. Once we’re on track, you can set me up with a mate of his, okay? But he has to be a ten above the belt and below.”

  “Been a while?” I ask her with a laugh.

  “Too fucking long.”

  Great, so now my day is filled with sideways glances from my friends and sisters. Everyone knows I had sex. It’s like high school. Only Ben’s the smokin’ hot teacher and I’m the student. Only, not in a gross way or illegal way. I wonder what he’d do if he rolled up to my place and I was wearing a short tartan skirt and transparent white blouse? Maybe one of those little ties around the collar?

  I fan myself and get back to work. I started early today and I have nothing after 3pm. Ash is handling the walk-ins. At 3:10 I’m out of there and on my way back to my unit. Ben is picking me up at 4:30 but I’ve also got the air-conditioner tech coming because it’s hard to sleep when it’s a thousand degrees even after the most intense sexy times wears me out. I should have been out like a light but I just laid there in my bed, staring at the ceiling, praying for a breeze, naked and hot. I had two cold showers but they didn’t cool me down enough. I half expected Ben to stay but he was ever the gentleman, walking me to my door and kissing me goodnight.

  He didn’t even drive away until I was in my apartment. But I didn’t ask for a gentleman. I know he’s a bit old-fashioned or something which is why he doesn’t have sex on the first date. He’ll have it on the second though, I chuckle to myself. I did tease him into it. Not wearing underwear is…naughty and such a turn on. For me and for him.

  I have to wonder, since he gave it up already, how long he plans to hold out now. He said he likes to prolong the pleasure and make it count but I’m still not sure what that exactly entails.

  He’s right on time again, wearing the same shorts he wore on Saturday, a white linen shirt with a collar, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, first few buttons undone. He’s shaved recently. His cheeks and chin are smooth for the first time since I’ve known him. I run my fingers over his jawline, lean in close, inhale his cologne.

  “Hi,” I greet him.

  He pulls me by my hips until we’re torso to torso and kisses me. Then he says, “Hi yourself.”

  My masterplan here is to touch as much as possible and wear as little as possible. Behind closed doors. I’m wearing a summer kimono over a different bikini but it hides about
as much as the other one did. I went through a phase with g-string bottoms a few years ago and I didn’t realise how many suits I bought. I plan on wearing jeans and just the bikini bra but I notice behind him, down the garden path, the top of his jeep is down.

  “I should throw something on over the top so I don’t get sunburnt.”

  “I like it just like that,” he says, closing my front door and leaning against it, his expression hot. He looks me up and down and shrugs. “Or less.”

  I pause. Raise one eyebrow. Are we going out or staying in? “It doesn’t get much less than this,” I say and drop the kimono to the floor.

  He makes a turning motion in the air and I comply, spinning in a slow circle while he looks his fill. I feel like I do this too often for him but if it turns him on, I’m up for it.

  “I don’t like it,” he says.

  I stop and frown.

  “Take it off,” he tells me.

  An inferno swamps my insides.

  “Slowly,” he adds, stepping into the room further and sitting on a dining chair.

  I pull on the string under my hair, at my nape. The top sags until my tits are bare. I undo one more string and it falls to the floor. My thumbs loop into the g-string but he holds up a hand.

  “Not yet. Come closer to me.”

  I do.

  “Turn around.”

  I give him my back.

  “Now slide them off nice and slow.”

  Ah, I see. My movements are so slow I almost overbalance but then his hands are on my hips, steadying me while I’m bent at the waist. “Now what?” I ask, my voice husky and coarse, I am so turned on.

  “I owe you a punishment or two,” he says, his palm on my arse cheek, his other hand still on my hip but his thumb is wandering. “Feet apart a little more.”

  I do this too. I can’t say no because I want him to touch me so bad, moisture must be dripping down the inside of my thigh. It should be humiliating, standing here like this, following his every softly worded command. It isn’t. It’s fucking hot despite the fact I’m fully aware he’s looking right at my bum.

  His thumbs open me further to his view and I wonder how he sees me. He brushes over my anus, lower, past my very wet pussy, to my clit. He likes the clit. I like that he knows where it is and how to play with it. His entire palm swipes me back and then forward again, two fingers make me groan and push back against him.

  “Fuck.” I’m trying to breathe but I am so worked up, it’s hard not to fall in a heap.

  A slap to my arse cheek stings and I bite my lip so I don’t grin. I try not to move either so he doesn’t take those two fingers out of me. I wonder if rubbing your tummy and patting your head is the sexual equivalent to fingerbanging and slapping at the same time.

  I shift my weight because standing like this is uncomfortable and he stops playing with me. His voice is strained as he says, “You drive me wild.”

  I turn and grin. His shorts are tented and his expression is pained. “You want me to do something about that?”

  He shakes his head but he doesn’t say no. I slowly get to my knees between his legs. I run my hands up the inside of his thighs until I’m almost within ball stroking distance then I back off. “You sure? You could order me to do what you want. Start when you want. Stop when you want.” Although if push comes to shove, I’m not going to stop. “You said last night you wanted to see your dick in my mouth. Changed your mind?”

  He shakes his head again, his hands are fisted, his lips are a thin line.

  I pull at the elastic waist of his shorts and the head of his cock jumps free. “No you don’t want to or no you’ve changed your mind?”

  I lean forward and just lick the tip.

  He growls.

  I chuckle. “You’re supposed to tell me what you want.”

  “I want you to stop talking.”

  I make eye contact, intense eye contact and incline my head. Waiting. Silent.

  “Jesus, woman, you’re making this impossible.”

  I still wait. I’m totally getting to him and it fills me with a kind of power I didn’t know I could feel after the last twelve months took so much from me.

  “I want you to,” he says.

  I raise a brow in question. Almost laugh as he grinds his teeth together.

  “Suck my dick. I want to see it in your mouth. I want to pull your hair and hear you moan around me.” He stands and shoves his shorts off his hips leaving him in only his linen shirt. “But we do this together or not at all.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ben

  I did not come here with the plan for sex. After last night, I made a resolve that she wouldn’t keep doing this to me. Yeah, she’s hot. She’s sexy. She smart and sassy and willing. But I’m in control.

  At least I thought I was.

  She eyes me with so much heat and hunger, my dick only inches from her sweet lips and it would be so easy to brace her face and plunge into her mouth, to make her gag on it as she sucks me to ecstasy but that’s the easy way and if we’re doing this, it’s not going to be me getting all the pleasure all the time. That’s not how I operate.

  She takes my dick in her hand and licks me again and I swear, bend over, scoop her up and take her down her long, dark hall. Her bedroom is nice, minimal, mustard yellow comforter on the made bed. Too many pillows but more than enough space.

  Something she said to me the other day sounded in my brain when she licked me. She asked who would want to sixty-nine her. I throw her on the bed with a bounce and she squeals and laughs.

  There’s a question in her eyes as I gently twist her foot until it comes off. I roll the sock back too until it’s just her stump. She lies back and watches me but doesn’t ask me to stop. Doesn’t question me.

  I unbutton my shirt and then hop on the bed, lying back against her pillows, shuffling down a little. “On your knees,” I tell her.

  She moves so she’s between my legs again and dips her head but I stop her. “Turn around.”

  “What?”

  I physically move her so she spins but is still on her knees. I tap the insides of her thighs until she opens more and straddles my stomach like we’re gearing up for reverse cowgirl. I’m behind her. I touch her. She’s still soaking wet. I guide her hips and thighs until she’s moving up the bed.

  “Are you sure about this?” she asks and peeks at me over her shoulder.

  “Suck my dick.”

  “M-my leg,” she says with a stammer.

  I spread her cheeks and lick her clit. “There’s only one view I’m interested in,” I tell her. “And it’s not your leg.” I don’t want her to be thinking about her leg. I want her mindless and wild. I tilt her pelvis and go to town. I suck, bite, lick, use every skill I have until she’s writhing against my face and finally takes my dick between her lips. I bite, she sucks harder. I slip the tip of my thumb into her pussy and she sucks harder. I picture her head bobbing over me and adrenaline surges in my veins.

  I sink into her anus up to my fingernail and I get her teeth. When I have to take a breath, I replace my tongue in her pussy with my fingers and bang her hard. I don’t stop until she’s forced to let me go and sinks her face into the blanket next to my cock to scream as she convulses and bucks.

  While she’s collecting herself, on her knees still, I wriggle out and kneel behind her. “Condoms?”

  “Top drawer,” she pants.

  I pull the drawer open so quick it comes out all the way and spills little foil packets and a few sex toys onto the carpet. The toys I ignore. For now.

  I roll the rubber over my shaft, spread her cheeks again because I like this angle, and do what I told myself I wouldn’t do. I line up, the head of my cock at her pussy, swollen and pink from my face and teeth, and ease into her until I’m balls deep. I can’t even describe the sensation of watching like this, as I penetrate her, as she arches, her toes curling.

  Her fingers bury into the bedspread. “Oh, sweet Jesus,” she moans.

&n
bsp; I’m wholly fixated on where we’re joined, at the smooth slide, the slap, the withdrawal. I take my time and just enjoy the sensation.

  “I’m going to need you to go faster, harder, please,” she says, her face muffled into the comforter.

  “I like this pace,” I say, still mesmerised.

  Jen slides forward until I’m no longer in her, flips onto her back and wraps her legs around me, pulling me forward. She manoeuvres so her ankle is on my shoulder, her other leg over my hips, and leaves me little option but to give her what she wants. She grins as I up the pace.

  “Harder?” I ask her, teasing?

  “If you can,” she dares me, already a little breathless.

  “Hold on,” I warn her and drive into her so hard her boobs bounce. She grips my forearms and I keep going.

  I think the bed shifts on the carpet and I don’t stop, not until she’s biting her lip and moaning, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, nearly…”

  Then I slow down. Then I stop.

  “Nooo,” she wails and puts her hands on my arse cheeks, trying to move me, trying to grind against me. “You can’t do that! It’s not fair!”

  I let her push my chest and lie back, trying to catch my breath while chuckling, but then she climbs on top, positions herself and lowers all the way, fast. I’m so hard and so nearly there too. I try to hold her hips still but she has a mind of her own and while I’m this close, I can’t muster enough will power to stop her.

  I plunge upwards at the same time she sits and the friction and slaps of skin on skin makes me come so hard I see stars again. She lifts and lowers only two more times and then cries out, her insides milking the last of my orgasm as she has her own, slapping her hands down on my pecs as she calls the name of the God I don’t much believe in. It’ll leave petite handprints. I don’t care.

  She collapses onto my chest and I stroke her from breast to hip, from arse to knee and then lower. She stiffens so I wander my touch back up.

  “That was pretty amazing,” she says and then punctuates the statement with a soft bite to my nipple.