Violent Circle Boxset

by Shade, S. M.

  She giggles and folds her legs beneath her. “Deal. I love Aiden to death, but pretending to be young again for a night would be nice.”

  “You’re twenty-three,” I point out, perusing her movie collection. “And you have a lot of stoner movies for someone who doesn’t smoke.”

  She shrugs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I used to smoke, you know, before I got pregnant. It makes me stupid though, so I couldn’t do it and take care of Aiden.”

  “I don’t do it often, and only when Bailey isn’t around.” Grinning, I sit beside her and pull a joint from my pocket. “Kids aren’t here tonight, Ms. Senior Citizen.”

  Her plump lips stretch into a smile. “Says the man pushing forty.”

  “Thirty-three is not pushing forty.”

  She takes the joint and lighter from my hand and sparks it up. “Fine. Pick a movie. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when I lose a hundred IQ points.”

  There are times when I’m sure she knows exactly what that smile and laugh does to me, but the next second I’m convinced she’s completely naïve when it comes to how I see her. How I want her.

  I know the whole neighborhood thinks we have something going on, and it’s understandable because we spend so much time together, but I’ve never done more than give her a hug after a rough day. We help one another out, since each of us is missing a parent to our kids. It really helps for Bailey to have a woman to talk to, and I know she’s concerned about Aiden not having a male role model. We all have fun together, but we’ve left it at that.

  A little over two years ago, Bailey lost it when I took my wedding ring off. Her mother had been gone for three years by then, and I knew it was past time, but it still hurt her far worse than I anticipated. That’s the reason I don’t date. My daughter’s happiness comes first, and she needs to grow up a little before I can consider it.

  So as hard as it’s been, I’ve restrained myself every time I’ve wanted to grab Veronica and kiss her until we run out of air. Not to mention, she’s so much younger than me. I’m certain she’d rather find a guy her age.

  I open the window beside us a few inches to vent the smoke, and we settle on the couch to watch the movie. Silence engulfs the room as the weed takes effect.

  Her fiery hair hangs in waves around her heart shaped face, and her big blue eyes never leave the screen. She really does zone out. Out of nowhere, she bursts out laughing at something that happens in the movie. Maybe if I was watching it instead of staring at the light sprinkling of freckles trailing down her neck and disappearing under her collar, I’d know what it was. Damn, how long have I been staring at her? It feels like about fifteen minutes, but I know that can’t be true. This stuff is potent.

  When she stops laughing, she leans her head against my shoulder. “We’re not doing this right.”

  My struggling brain tries to read way too much into that statement before she adds, “We should’ve got some chips or ice cream or something.”

  “We could order a pizza.”

  She sits up with a grin. “Or I could make waffles! Don’t waffles sound amazing?”

  They do actually, but we’re stoned. You could give me a piece of bread and it would be the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.

  I hit pause on the movie, get to my feet, and offer her my hand. “Let’s make waffles.”

  Her hand slides into mine, and she stands up. “I have batter already made in the fridge. So it’ll be easy.”

  You would think so.

  Cooking while high is never recommended.

  She plugs in the waffle iron, heats it, adds the batter, then sets a timer. “They take about four minutes each.”

  We talk and laugh while she makes the waffles, setting a timer each time until she’s down to the last one. I’m busy getting us something to drink when she says, “Shit. I forgot to set the timer. No idea how long the last one has been cooking. I’ll just say three minutes and hope it doesn’t burn.”

  “You wait until the last one to screw up?” I tease, and she throws a dish towel at me.

  “I didn’t screw up. It’ll be fine. I’m not even high anymore.”

  Those words become a lot funnier when the timer goes off, and she opens the waffle iron.

  It’s empty.

  I can’t help it. Laughter bursts from my chest.

  “Well, you didn’t burn anything. Maybe because the batter is still in the bowl.”

  I don’t know exactly what it is that erodes the last of my self-control. Maybe it’s the way her cheeks flush pink and she curls her lips inward, fighting a smile, or the words “Well, fuck,” coming from those lips. Dick sucking lips, we called them when I was young. Maybe the weed lowered my resistance, but either way, I can’t fight it.

  A soft gasp leaves her as I step into her space, and she steps back, her shoulders pressed against the wall. A hand lands on my chest, and her mouth opens to say something, but she doesn’t get the chance before I slip my hand behind her neck and finally get a taste of her lips.

  Her body melts into mine. There’s no hesitation on her part, like she’s been thinking about this as much as I have. I hope that’s true because I don’t plan on stopping at a kiss.

  Her hand wanders over my chest as her other glides down my back to grab my ass. Hard. Fuck, this girl is going to kill me. She comes off as innocent with those youthful looks and wide eyes, but I can feel the passion burning inside her now.

  A soft whimper when I slip my tongue between her lips makes my cock twitch, and I can’t wait to hear the sounds she makes when she comes. She presses her hips forward, rubbing against my leg, and I can feel the heat of her through the leggings she wears.

  “Off,” she mumbles, grabbing the bottom of my shirt, and she doesn’t have to ask twice. Her lips move across my chest, and I pull her shirt over her head. I knew she wasn’t wearing a bra. I’ve never seen such beautiful tits, pearl white like the rest of her skin, with a dusting of tiny freckles. A small red birthmark rests on the side of her left nipple, and she takes a deep breath when I run my tongue over it before planting my mouth over her nipple.

  Her hands tug at my hair. “Neal,” she breathes.

  “Tell me to stop, V.”

  “I can’t.”

  More glorious words were never spoken, and I’m right there with her because I can’t stop either. “I might come just from you touching me,” she adds, as if it’s a warning.

  “Yeah? Let’s see about that.”

  I slip my hands down the front of her leggings and panties, and she isn’t kidding. She’s wet and ready, her hips bucking forward at the lightest touch. It’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, and I have no intention of making her come with my hand.

  Kissing her neck, I slip my hands under the waistband of her panties and pull them off as I kneel in front of her. She groans at the soft kisses I place on her lower belly, and I steal a glance at her face before I move down. Her slightly parted lips are puffy and red, and her breasts rise and fall quickly with her fast breaths. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes plead with me not to stop.

  No worries there.

  I grab her ankle and scoot her feet apart as she watches, rapt.

  “Yes,” she moans, when my tongue finds its target.

  Her nails run gently over my scalp, and I grip her hips, holding her in place as I lick and suck at her. In less than a minute, I feel her getting close, and I slide a finger inside her. It catches her off guard, and she cries out, her body shaking inside and out. I need to feel that on my cock. Now.

  Her eyes are glassy, and I know it isn’t the weed. Fuck drunk looks good on her, and I can’t wait to get her to the bedroom.

  I stand and open my mouth to speak, but the strangest thing seems to come out. “Mom. Mom. Mom. Mommy. Mommy. Mama. Mama.”

  Okay, I absolutely did not say that because how fucking creepy would that be? Besides, the voice is clearly Stewie from the Family Guy TV show.

  Her eyes meet mine and she d
issolves into laughter, which was not at all how I saw this going. “It’s my phone. My ringtone. Aiden chose it.”

  I step back, and she heads to the living room to grab her phone. “Hello? Hey, buddy. Are you having fun?”

  Cock blocked by the kid.

  I grab two bottles of water from her fridge and follow her, my hard-on leading the way.

  She’s sitting on the couch, naked, talking on the phone.

  “Okay, good night. Be good. I love you too.”

  She ends the call and looks up at me. “Sorry, he wouldn’t go to sleep without saying good night.”

  She reaches for a throw blanket, and I grab her hand before she can cover herself. “Do you want to call it a night?” I ask.

  Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and her gaze sweeps over my chest, down to the obvious bulge in my pants. “We should.” Her actions don’t match her words because her hand has found its way between my legs.

  “I disagree.”

  Swallowing hard, she says, “It doesn’t have to mean anything. One time, while our kids are gone.”

  “One night,” I correct, knowing damn well I’m lying through my teeth. “As many times as we want.”

  “Then we stay friends.”

  “Absolutely.” I’m not young or naïve enough to think this won’t change things. That ship sailed the second I kissed her. I have no idea what will happen tomorrow or the next day, but tonight, I’m going to watch her come beneath me.

  “I have a birth control implant and I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

  “Same here, minus the birth control implant.”

  She chuckles and shakes her head, then squeals when I scoop her up. “We have about fifteen hours until we have to get the kids. Let’s see how many orgasms we can fit in.”

  I place her on the bed, and she watches me remove my jeans and underwear.

  “Fuck.” The curse is soft, barely audible, but the way she’s looking at my cock isn’t subtle. She’s nervous. All men want to think they’ve got a giant anaconda even if they’re actually carrying around a pinworm, but I’ve always been happy with my size. Above average, but not a cervix crusher.

  Her gaze flits up to mine as I crawl over her. “It really has been a long time for me,” she whispers.

  “How long?”

  “Over five years.”

  I freeze, blinking a few times. I did not expect that. Her cheeks turn pink, and she shrugs. “Not since before I had Aiden. I haven’t had the time or opportunity to get close to anyone since.”

  She tilts her head as I brush her hair back. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Pshh, didn’t you hear me? Over five years, Neal. If you don’t fuck me, I’m going over to Samantha’s. She never has a shortage of men.”

  With a growl, I kiss the teasing smile from her face. “Not…fucking…happening,” I say, punctuating each word with a kiss.

  She wraps her legs around my ass, and I slide inside her. She’s tight, and I can feel her tensing up for a few seconds before she relaxes. “Go slow,” she breathes.

  Good damn thing because it hasn’t been as long for me as for her, but it’s still been long enough for me to embarrass myself, especially if she keeps making those soft whimpers.

  Kissing her, I pull out and push in slow and careful, feeling her pulse around me as her body adjusts. “We’ve got all night,” I murmur.

  Too bad I already know that won’t be enough.

  Chapter Seven

  Veronica

  For the first time in years, I wake up slowly instead of being jarred awake by an alarm or Aiden. I climb through the levels of consciousness in increments until I’m aware of the soft bed beneath me and the warm body against my back. Neal’s arm is draped over me, and when I open my eyes, his hand lies near my face. Maybe I’m just tired, or still a little spaced out from the weed last night, but I spend a long minute just staring at it.

  I’ve always had a thing for a man’s hands. And Neal’s are a great example of why. Large and strong, with long fingers. Absently, I slide my hand under his to feel his smooth palm and slightly rougher fingers. Those hands were all over me last night, touching me inside and out, until I was left in a blissed out fog of post orgasmic exhaustion.

  I had no idea sex could be that amazing. I was seventeen when I got pregnant and I had only been with Clint, whose idea of great sex was kissing for two minutes then bending me over something.

  Neal took his time, touched, kissed, licked, and drove me insane with more orgasms than I thought I was capable of. And I spent just as much time exploring his body, reveling in the moans and hisses he made, especially when my lips were around his cock.

  His cock.

  It deserves an award. I could write poetry about it. Ode to the perfect penis. Or maybe a Haiku. Isn’t it five syllables, seven syllables, five syllables?

  Smooth and glorious

  Grace my vagina again

  With your stiff magic

  Nah, that one sounds creepy.

  Leaning to the left

  Extravagantly swollen

  I shall call you Rod

  Yeah, that’s better.

  I’m lost in my ridiculous thoughts when Neal’s arm tightens around me. It’s possible he’s awake because I was wiggling my ass against him, but in my defense, he started it with that morning hard-on prodding me.

  “Good morning,” he murmurs, running his thumb back and forth across my navel.

  “Morning.”

  It’s painfully silent for a few moments while a war rages in my head. Last night wasn’t enough. I want him again, and we have time. But I’m also clear headed today and I know this has been a mistake we’ll probably regret later.

  He rests his chin on my shoulder. “I can hear those wheels spinning in your head, V. Say what you need to.”

  “Everything goes back to normal today.”

  “Yes.”

  “After a morning quickie.” There goes my ass again, pressing against him, being all greedy. I’ve lost control of it.

  Chuckling, he plants a kiss on the back of my neck, and grabs my knee, pushing my leg forward. His hand trails down over my ass before he slips a thick finger inside me. I’m already wet and ready, so he doesn’t hesitate to add another finger. We stay right like that, on our sides with his body pressed to mine while he moves them slowly, in and out, his fingertips dragging over that sweet spot just right to make me moan and squirm. Damn, he’s good at this. Clint used to finger me like there was a lottery ticket in there he had to scratch off.

  He withdraws his hand and shifts his hips until his cock is between my legs. In one firm thrust, he buries himself inside me, and I can’t help the cry that leaves my throat. It’s deep this way. Hot, licking kisses rain down on my neck and shoulders as he fucks me in a slow, steady, mind blowing rhythm.

  I turn my head and find his lips, kissing him as my hand reaches back, running over every bit of him I can reach. “Neal.” His name falls from my lips, and his eyes burn into mine. The combination of the way he’s making me feel and the intensity of his gaze on mine is too much, too intimate, and I have to close my eyes.

  “Does that feel good?” he murmurs.

  “God, yes. Harder,” I plead.

  Rising up over me a little, he grabs my hand that’s reaching for him and pins it, along with the other, to the bed. I’m trapped , rolled so far on my side I’m nearly on my stomach. Hard, fast thrusts send streaks of pleasure through me, faster and faster until they’re piling up, building to a height I’ve never felt and not sure I can handle. Just as I’m ready to plead for mercy, I’m rocked by a surge of spasms that reduces me to an incoherent mess. All I can do is grip his hand that still holds mine down as I ride out the wonderfully devastating attack on all my senses.

  This man just owned me. Took my body and made it do things I didn’t know it was capable of.

  Fuck.

  Our heavy breathing is the only sound in the room as we both recover. H
e slips out of me, then pulls me back against his chest, holding me like I may make a run for it. It’s tempting, because I’m torn between asking him to fuck me like that every day until I’m old and crotchety, and hating him because this is supposed to be a one day casual thing, but he made me feel way too much. Stupid emotions will screw everything up. I don’t want to be that girl who can’t get laid without turning all psycho. And I could. The way I feel now, I want to climb his cock, plant a flag on top, and claim Mount Pecker in the name of Veronica, marking it for my own use only.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, kissing my neck.

  Space. I need space.

  “Yeah, I’m good.” He releases me as I wiggle away, and I can feel his eyes on my back as I rummage through my dresser for clean clothes. “I’m going to take a quick shower before I have to pick up Aiden.” Without looking at him or giving him a chance to respond, I flee to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

  One night. It was one hell of an amazing night, but it’s over, and I need to get a grip. Neal has been a wonderful friend to me, and Aiden is crazy about him and Bailey, so I can’t screw this up by acting weird just because we licked each other’s genitals.

  It’s decided then. I won’t be weird. I guess that starts now since I just ran away and locked the bathroom door behind me, but I can’t have him in the shower with me. We did that last night and the sight of his sexy, lean body is already imprinted deeply in my brain.

  As the water washes the smell of our night from my skin, I close my eyes, and try to get a grip. I’m twenty-three years old. I should be perfectly capable of having some casual sex without freaking out like a smitten teenage girl over an older guy.

  I can do this.

  Just maintain, girl.

  My little self pep talk seems to help until I leave the bathroom and find Neal sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on his shoes. He looks up at me with concern. “V, are we okay?”

  “Of course.” I force a smile. “We had a little naked fun while the kids were gone. It’s no big deal. Everything is fine.”