by Shade, S. M.
By the time I shower and dress, Wyatt is sitting on my couch in the living room. His lips part when I enter—gah I’m always looking at his lips—and he looks at me like I’m dressed in lingerie instead of a tee shirt with little cotton shorts. He pulls me down on the couch beside him.
“Mmm…you smell good.” His light stubble scratches my neck as he buries his face there. “I can’t wait to see how you taste.”
A good licking from Wyatt? Fuck. Yes. Sign me up.
“Do you mind if I use your shower?”
“Of course not, there’s a robe hanging in the bathroom if you want to wear it.”
“I have a change of clothes in the car. I live out of a suitcase, remember?”
There are times I dream about traveling, living a nomadic life, but I think the novelty would wear off quickly. It may not be much, but this place has become my home. It would be depressing to live out of hotels and never feel at home.
Look at me, feeling sorry for someone who could probably buy this whole place. I may be overestimating his wealth, but I’ve grown so accustomed to being surrounded by people like me, who struggle and live paycheck to paycheck. The fact that he owns two stores and has worked his way to an executive level in his father’s company makes him rich in my eyes.
The money doesn’t change anything, though. I’m no gold digger. I enjoy being around him. He’s easy to talk to and always kind, which is a hard quality to find sometimes. Plus, you know, he looks like he stepped off an underwear ad.
I didn’t expect to bring a man home with me when I left for work this morning, but at least my bed has nice, fresh sheets and my room isn’t messy. While Wyatt is showering, I connect my phone to my speaker, choose a playlist, and put it on shuffle.
He returns wearing only a pair of sweat pants, his bare chest displaying a light sprinkling of dark hair. I love chest hair. Like, it’s probably an unnatural love. While other women expect men to wax or shave everything, I’m fantasizing about running my cheek across those curly hairs.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” he warns, his eyes full of lust as he stalks toward me. I suddenly feel like prey, but I’m only too happy to be devoured.
“Pshh…like I’m so impressed by your carved chest and swollen biceps.”
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed when he walks up between my legs and stares down at me. “I’ve got something much more impressive for you.”
His pants are expanding right in front of my face so I have no doubt he’s telling the truth. My mouth goes dry and teasing him is the last thought in my head. I want this man naked and on top of me.
I rub my hands up his chest as I stand. He’s so damn tall I’m tempted to stand on the bed. Instead, I throw my arms around his neck, and he leans down, bringing his lips to mine. His hands wander underneath my shirt until he’s cupping my bare breast while he owns my mouth with his tongue.
Wyatt’s kiss is intense and exciting. It steals the world from around me and all that’s left is him, the feel of his tongue exploring mine, his fingers caressing my nipples, his hand kneading my ass.
We part long enough for him to pull off my shirt, then our mouths clash together again. His back is warm and smooth, lined with muscles I can’t wait to lick, but my hands have a mind of their own when they slide down the back of his pants. I’ve never felt such a squeezable ass. Even through his clothes, I could tell it was a great ass, but I’m still pleasantly surprised by how round and firm it is.
His fingers hook into the waistband of my shorts and panties, and he removes both with one movement, pausing to let me step out of them. I’m generally happy with my body, even though I’m too skinny and my boobs struggle to reach a B cup, but this is the point where I’d usually become a little self-conscious.
Not this time. When Wyatt gazes down at me, all I see is the lust and appreciation that’s mirrored on my own face.
“Such a beautiful body,” he murmurs. “Such a shame I’m going to dirty it all up.”
If it isn’t clear by now, I talk a lot. I babble and say dumb stuff when I’m nervous. What I never do is get tongue tied, but this man has managed to steal my words. There isn’t a thought in my head other than I can’t wait to be dirtied up.
He smirks, obviously aware he’s thrown me off kilter, and yanks off his pants. Of course, he doesn’t wear underwear. His cock is every bit as impressive as he claimed. It’s perfect really. Long and thick, but not so big I can’t take him.
The smirk is knocked off his face when I bend forward and give it a long, slow lick around the head. He grunts and his head falls back for a second before I’m snatched off my feet. “As much as I’d love that, I have other plans for you tonight, babe.”
He tosses me on the bed and yanks my legs apart. Standing at the edge of the bed, he stares down at me for a long second, making me feel exposed. “You’re blushing,” he murmurs, bringing his gaze to mine.
“You’re staring at places I can only see with a mirror,” I reply, finding my voice.
“Get used to it. I plan to look at this pussy every chance I get.” His fingers brush gently between my legs. “And touch it, and fuck it, but right now, I want a taste.”
Soft lips lay kisses up my thighs until he reaches his target. The first brush of his tongue between my folds make me gasp and raise up off the bed. A wicked smile appears on his face as he wraps his arms around my thighs, pulling me down and holding me open to his talented mouth.
Maybe I’ve only been with guys who didn’t know what they were doing or only knew the “lick the alphabet” trick, but I’ve never been able to come from this before. I had no idea it could be so incredible and overwhelming. Within minutes, I can feel the pressure building.
“Oh fuck. Yes…don’t stop. Don’t stop,” I plead.
I don’t know what little move he pulls, but I can’t stop from crying out as I’m seized by the sudden, devastating pleasure. The spasms go on and on as he continues to lick and suck. When I finally relax, I realize my hands are buried in his hair, trying to pull it out.
“Sorry,” I mumble, scratching at his scalp.
“Don’t you dare be sorry.”
He gets to his feet and grabs a condom from the pocket of his sweats, still balled up on the floor beside him. Seconds later, he’s crawling over me, his huge body looming above me like something right out of one of my Tarzan fantasies. The Alexander Skarsgard Tarzan, of course.
The heat of his solid weight on top of me feels so damn good as he showers both of my breasts with attention. God, his mouth. He has the best mouth. Damn it. I said that out loud.
His eyes delve into mine as he slides inside of me. It takes a few deep breaths before I can acclimate to his size, and he gives me a moment before he starts to move. Pain quickly gives way to pleasure, and I throw my legs around him.
As soon as I start moving with him, he groans and increases his pace.
The man can move.
It’s unfair, really, for one guy to have everything he does. Money, looks, a fun personality, a big cock, and moves that could win him a stripper award. If that’s something that exists. Either way, the man is a damned artist in bed.
He doesn’t just slam in and out of me, like the guys I’ve had before. He moves with purpose, and grace that shouldn’t be possible for a man his size. It feels like he’s hitting every nerve ending in my entire body every time he presses forward, and when I feel like it can’t possibly get any better, he shifts his hips and proves me wrong.
I don’t know how long we keep at it. It feels like forever and I never want it to end. Our moans and pants echo around us, overcoming the music as we both near the edge. “Wyatt,” I gasp before burying my face in his neck as I’m thrown into an orgasm every bit as strong as the first.
I feel him still, and a growl rumbles his chest as he comes. Seriously, a growl. It’s probably the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.
It’s instantly followed by the opposit
e of that.
My music has continued to play, but I barely heard it and I doubt he did either. Unfortunately, there’s no missing the song that’s filling the room now.
The theme song to Scooby Doo.
We’re lying here, covered in sweat, his cock still inside me, listening to the Scooby Doo theme song. Before I can comment, his body begins to shake with laughter and he looks down at me. “Ruh-roh,” he says, and we both fall into hysterics.
He rolls off me and goes to dispose of the condom while I stop the music that has totally killed the moment.
When he returns, he climbs back into my bed and pulls me close. “Do you always fuck to Scooby?” he teases.
“Nah, Flintstones is my jam.” Giggling, I lay my cheek on his chest. “I forgot I added a couple of kiddie songs when I was babysitting one of my neighbor’s kids.”
“Uh-huh. Sure,” he teases, tickling the back of my neck. “So, if I look at your phone I won’t see a wide selection of cartoon songs? Maybe a little Captain Caveman when you’re feeling freaky?”
“Hmm…you do growl like a cave man when you come.”
His fingers thread into my hair and he asks, “Do you mind if I stay the night?”
Did I hear that right? I was seconds away from getting up and letting him know I didn’t expect him to stay, and he wants to spend the night?
“Of course you can stay, but if you need to go, I understand.” I’m trying to give him an out, but apparently, he doesn’t want one. The hotel must be lonely.
“I don’t have anywhere to be until tomorrow afternoon,” he says.
“Good, then I can hear you growl in the morning too.”
Rolling over and tucking my body against his, he drops his voice to a deep rumble. “Captain Caaaavemaaan!”
Chapter Four
Wyatt proves his skills again the next morning before we both drag our asses out of bed and shower. It’s the first day off either of us has had in a while so neither of us is in any hurry to do anything.
We end up lounging on the couch, eating donuts. “These commercials kill me,” I remark with a chuckle as an ad for a prescription drug plays. “There’s always a long list of side effects that are ten times worse than the condition they’re treating. I mean, did you hear the last one? Uncontrollable flailing of the arms and legs? So, would I turn into one of those inflatable tube men the car lots have out front?”
Wyatt laughs and starts speaking in a deep announcer’s voice. “Do you have dry eyes? Just use two drops of Clearitup every night. Side effects may include morning breath, rectal prolapse, back hair, sudden hate for the color yellow, an urge to eat gravy, and loss of sphincter control.”
Stretching out, I lay my head in his lap. “Ugh, a craving for gravy and no sphincter control would not be a good combination.”
“Zoinks,” Wyatt replies, and I slap his arm.
“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
“Not any time soon.”
A teddy bear made of denim falls off the back of the couch and Wyatt picks it up. “Your bear is suicidal.”
Closing my eyes, I snuggle against him. “Maybe because his stitches are crooked. I screwed up when I was sewing his head. It gives him a lot of character though, so I didn’t fix it.”
“You made this?” he asks.
“Yeah, making plush animals is sort of a hobby.” I peek up at him. “What do you like to do when you aren’t conquering the world one dirty store at a time?”
His hand is warm in my hair. “I like to fish and ride my jet ski. Play video games.”
“I suck at games. I die a few times then get pissed off.”
Wyatt chuckles. ‘I’d like to see that. I’ll bet you’re adorable when you rage quit.”
“Of course. I’m always adorable.”
I can’t believe how much fun I have with Wyatt. He’s different outside of work, funnier and more relaxed. We hang out until early afternoon, and he kisses me goodbye before he leaves, promising he’ll see me at work the next day.
I’m ignoring multiple alarms blaring in my head at the moment. You know, those bitter, hating little voices that want to warn you of impending bad ideas to destroy your fun. So he won’t be in town long. I just won’t get attached. I’m not the clingy type, anyway. And so what if he’s my boss at a job I really need. We’re adults. We can be professional at work and naked at home. No problem.
The heat wave has finally broken so I grab a glass of tea and sit out on my step to enjoy a little sunshine. Mallory and Dennis must still be on the outs since he’s sitting on a bench at the park across the street, his trash bag full of clothes beside him. Whenever they fight, she usually lets him back in by morning. He really must’ve screwed up this time. I did hear her scream something about crabs, though. That’s not something you just forgive.
I realized a long time ago that you don’t need cable television if you live on Violent Circle. We have the outside channel. Twenty-four seven entertainment that’s free and includes all the drama you’d usually see on a reality show.
“Hey, Cass,” Noble calls, coming to take a seat beside me. “How have you been?”
Noble Bradley lives in the Frat Hell apartment. He’s about a year older than me, and cute, but a big partier. He’s getting ready to start his last year of college, though, so he must be able to handle it.
“Pretty good.”
“I hear you’re working at the sex shop.” He flips his blond hair off of his forehead and grins at me. “Can I come and get a happy ending?”
“I can recommend a top of the line Pocket Pussy if you’re hard up,” I offer, chuckling.
“Please,” he scoffs. “I get more ass than that park bench.” His gaze lands on Dennis. “Guess Mallory threw him out again.”
“Looks like it.”
Noble produces a joint and offers, “You want some?”
“I’ll hit it once or twice.” I shrug. I need to do laundry today and if I get stoned early, I’ll get nothing accomplished.
Dennis makes his way back across the street while we smoke, and marches past us like he doesn’t see us. Or maybe he wants to pretend we can’t see him. He starts banging on the door and pleading with Mallory to let him in. When those pleas fall on deaf ears, he starts demanding she give him his car keys.
“You want me gone? Fine! Then let me get my damn keys!” he insists.
“Aw shit,” Noble mumbles, covering a grin as the door pops open.
Mallory shakes a keyring in his face. “Are these what you want, huh?” She storms across the yard and down toward the entrance to the apartments. He follows her and even once they’re out of sight, their shouts and threats filter back to us.
“See that? That’s why I stay single,” Noble says, putting out the joint and stashing it in his pocket. “You know the block party is next weekend, right? You coming?”
“Yeah, kind of hard to miss,” I reply, and he nods.
Mallory is stalking back up the street, but Dennis isn’t behind her. “Mal, you okay?” I ask. “Do you want to come in for a few?”
She pauses to talk to us. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”
“Where’s Dennis?” Noble asks.
“Looking for his keys in the sewer.”
Noble’s eyebrows race up his forehead and he snickers.
Swallowing back my amusement, I ask, “You threw his keys in the sewer?”
There’s a gleam in her eye when she answers me. “Nope.” A keyring hangs off her finger when she holds up her hand and shakes the keys like you would to get a baby’s attention.
It takes about two seconds for both Noble and I to lose it. It’s mean, but it’s just too damn funny. “He-he’s down there in the water, looking for keys you never th-threw in?” My laughter keeps interrupting my words.
The circular road we live on dips on one end as it leads out of the apartments. Whenever it rains, the water all flows toward the sewer drain at the complex’s entrance. It’s a deep drain that gets backed up a lo
t and usually holds about two to three feet of sludgy, disgusting water. On really hot days, the odor that emanates from it can turn your stomach.
Mallory shrugs. “Trick works on my dog and Dennis ain’t no smarter. Teach that bastard to cheat on me.” As soon as she disappears into her apartment, Noble looks at me and we both crack up again. It really is too funny.
Noble gets to his feet. As he walks away, he calls out, “We’re going to have some spiked watermelons out back during the block party. Come and join us. Bring Jani.”
“Okay. Thanks for the buzz.”
“Sure thing.”
Bring Jani. Noble has been trying to get in Jani’s pants forever. She doesn’t give him the time of day, but he doesn’t give up easily.
It’s laundry day so I walk down to Jani’s apartment to see if she wants to go with me. There’s no chore more boring and mundane than laundry, so we usually go together to quell the boredom.
It’s late afternoon, but she answers the door with sleep mussed hair. “Bitch, were you still asleep?”
“I was up all night,” she grumbles, turning on her coffee pot and pulling two cups from the cabinet. “What are you doing out all chipper and shit? I figured you’d barely be able to walk today.”
Another thing about living on the circle, nothing is private. Almost half of the apartments face the other half so everyone sees what you’re doing. I guarantee most of the neighborhood saw Dennis’s naked ass outside last night. You’d think that would’ve distracted from the fact that I had company.
“Stalker.”
“I saw Wyatt helping Dennis pick up his clothes,” she laughs.
“You missed the best part. She threw a bunch of vibrators at him and announced that he makes her use a strap-on. Then today she pretended to throw his keys in the sewer, so he’s still down there digging for them.”
Jani’s head whips around and she snorts out a laugh. “You’re kidding!”
“Nope.”
A steaming coffee cup is set in front of me and she takes a seat across the table with hers. “Wow. Wonder what he did?”
