Big Hammer: A Second Chance Romance ((House of Stars- Book 2))

by Ried Reese

  I haven’t lived here long enough to know my way around this section of Vegas yet, so I end up putting the address of the apartment into the GPS on Brandon’s phone.

  Suddenly, I feel a weight in my stomach. Not an I-drank-too-much weight, but an I forgot-to-do-something weight. I twist around, checking for my jacket and purse, and laugh it off when Brandon asks me why I’m doing spins, but the feeling doesn't go away.

  It only gets stronger when Brandon pulls onto the quiet side street outside the apartment building, guides the huge truck over to the curb, and brakes to a stop. There’s a light post out here, but it’s on the fritz at the best of times and isn’t shining at all right now, plunging the street around the twin headlights of the truck into darkness. I suddenly feel like I’m in high school.

  Brandon puts the truck into park but leaves the engine humming. “Thanks for coming with me tonight.” He grimaces. “Sorry the evening ended like that. Guys like that are the reason a lot of bars get a bad rap.”

  “It’s fine.” My voice is small and quiet to my own ears. I open my door and step out onto the curb, but something stops me from closing the door behind me.

  “You okay?” Concern laces Brandon’s voice. He kills the engine and walks around the truck. “You don’t look ‘fine.’ ” His tone has gone deeper and more masculine, more… intense.

  He’s right, though. I’m far from fine. My heart is thumping a million miles an hour in my chest, and my lungs can’t seem to get quite enough air. Brandon is so close. Even in the dark street, his chiselled jaw draws my gaze. His shoulder and arm muscles cast long, undulating shadows across his broad chest. It’s the kind of chest that you lick, bite, and fall asleep on all within the same night.

  He takes a step closer to me. My hand grips the edge of the door frame. He reaches under my arm and pushes the door closed. I step to the side, now between him and the truck. The heat from his body pushes me back so I’m wedged between his hot body and the warm truck. My legs weaken, and my mind starts to spin with anticipation.

  His hand reaches upward, grazing the outside of my thigh and tracing my curves up to my waist. He wants this too, and that’s all I need to know. A soft moan slips through my lips and his body tenses at the sound. He puts both his hands around my waist, pushing me up against the warm, silver metal. My feet leave the ground as he presses his waist into mine. I feel his huge dick and try and gage the size of the thing as its pressed hard against my thigh. I’m gasping, floating, and free.

  “Brandon…” I whisper, craning my head backward. His breath tickles my neck, and his lips graze my earlobe as he brings his mouth to mine. He hovers, an inch away, our bodies trembling. His bright gray eyes seem to glimmer in the street lights, and his smooth, raven skin almost shimmers against the dim lights around us.

  In those eyes, I see a piece of the football jock I crushed on in high school, but they swim with life and lust. I don’t need to remember him the way he was, because now he’s one hell of a beautiful, big, black man.

  “Bran-”

  His mouth collides with mine. Our tongues dance effortlessly, and his teeth nibble my bottom lip just hard enough to make me shiver. The wetness between my legs seeps through my panties and drips down my inner thigh. I’m hoping he won’t notice my eagerness.

  Brandon opens my legs with his knee and pulls them around him. His fingers dig into my thighs. My skirt rips up the back under the force of his hands, and the juices between my legs soak into his jeans as I writhe against him. His cock is straining against his pants, and he rubs the pulsing bulge against my lace panties. He knows what he’s doing. Oh, god. I suck in a breath.

  My hands glide across his rippling arms, shoulders, and chest. My fingertips linger in the valleys between each muscle, like an explorer mapping new terrain. He reaches up and pushes my head back against the hood of the truck. His fingers clench around my jaw, and he sinks one finger between my lips. His touch is knowing and strong, and I want it. I can’t help but to relinquish myself to him.

  As I suck on his finger, he growls against my neck. His teeth find my earlobe, and it’s all I can do not to squeel. He takes my neck into his mouth as I grind harder against him. His tongue is hot iron against my skin, branding me with his kiss like the tattoos stretched across his skin.

  Brandon’s course denim jeans graze my clit through my panties, then rub harder as my body lurches and shakes in response. He pushes into me, driving his body weight against the hard, slick bundle of nerves nestled in my swollen lips. I moan loud and freely, digging my nails into the thick muscles of his upper back. Deep, growling vibrations shoot through his body with each pulse of his pelvis against me.

  We freeze as a door opens across the street and soft light floods the pavement on the other side of the truck. A woman and her dog prance onto the sidewalk. Our breathing doesn’t slow, and the interruption only heightens the blistering heat that’s pulling our bodies together.

  Once the clickety-clack of the woman’s heels are further down the street, Brandon puts a hand under my ass and lifts me effortlessly. His skin clings to mine where my skirt had ripped, and as he leans forward to open the back door of his truck with his other hand, two fingers slip on my juices and sneak under the edges of my panties. They slither between my soaked labia as he lays me across the back seat, and by the time he closes the door behind him, his fingers sink deep into my eager pussy.

  “Oh, fuuu!” I moan. He quiets me with an eager kiss, then makes his way down my neck and chest. His free hand pulls apart my blows, and buttons fly across the car. He arches his girthy fingers inside me. He’s trying to find my g-spot.

  “Ah, Brandon!” I whine. As my back arches, he slides his hand up my spine and unhooks my bra. He pushes the sleeves and bra straps down my arms as his tongue stops to caress my nipples.

  Damn, this man knows what the fuck he’s doing.

  Once my tits are slick with the trails of his tongue, he fills his mouth with my hard nipple and my small pink areola, sucking hard. He sucks with the same rhythm of his fingers pulsing inside me, and he begins massaging my clit with his thumb.

  “Brandon,” I gasp. “I… fuck… ohhh… You’re going to… ah… make me… fuck!”

  I throw my hand above my head, bracing myself against the far door. The heat inside me is so intense I can almost see it, glowing hot like a young star. My vision blurs. Just as I’m reaching my climax, Brandon releases his grip and trails his tongue down my stretched abdomen. His strong hands grab my hips and pull them upward just as he replaces his thumb on my clit with his mouth.

  I can feel my juices flow.

  He feels them too and starts to suck. He swirls his tongue around the base, lapping up juices between my swollen folds. I glance down, and his silver eyes are looking straight up at me, hungry and fierce. His fingers arch further into me, and he sucks my clit with a force I didn’t know was possible.

  I scream words I don’t recognize. I pull his hair and I fucking need this so much I realize my feet are giving him full access as they’re high in the air over; one over the front seat, the other I’m not sure. My arm pushes against the door behind my head, the driver’s seat beside me, and the floor below us, but my body is wild, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to control it again.

  Our eyes remain locked as Brandon pilots me through multiple orgasms. They hit me like strong, unexpected waves; like a powerful swell pushed to shore by a treacherous storm out to sea. As one breaks across the sand, another builds beneath the pulsing pressure of his fingers deep inside me and the churning whirlpool of his tongue on my clit.

  When my body begins to tremble, and my voice grows hoarse from screams and moans, he pulls his fingers out of me. I watch him lick every last drop of my juices from his hand. “You taste so sweet,” he says. With a shimmering glaze still on his lips, he leans forward and kisses me gently. He was right - I do.

  I feel a dryness at the back of my throat, like a thirst I haven’t yet quenched. I glance down, and precum
is soaking through the leg of his jeans. I say the leg, because his pulsing cock stretches halfway down his thigh. He chuckles when he sees me lick my lips, and unbuckles his belt.

  Before I know it, he’s unzipped his jeans and starts to pull them down past his knees as we seamlessly rotate in the seat. He lays down, and I crouch between his legs.

  His dick pushes well past the leg hem of his boxer briefs. I lean down and lap up the pool of precum dripping down his thigh onto the seat. I moan as the savory tastes glide across my tongue. He gasps and runs his fingers through my hair.

  I pull his massive, swollen head into my mouth, nearly filling it. I swirl my tongue beneath the edges and across the smooth velvet top. Brandon moans and pushes his hips upward. My cheeks rest on the dark, buttery skin of his thigh.

  Soon the teasing isn’t enough. I need his cock. I need his entire, big, black cock. I snatch the boxers down by the waistband past his knees, and he loses his mind as his dick disappears down my throat without warning.

  “Ah, fuck!” he screams.

  I thought I wouldn’t be able to get a third of him in my mouth, but when his salty, dripping head hits the back of my throat, my neck straightens instinctively and my throat opens on its own. Breathing through my nose, I swallow, over and over again. The strong muscles in my throat constrict and relax around his cock. Brandon bucks his hips, thrusting his dick in and out of my throat. My tongue laps around his shaft, tickling the wide, pulsing veins.

  I feel a strange pressure in my throat, so I pull myself off him. I’m panting, my eyes are watering, and my face is covered in precum and spit.

  “That’s right, baby,” Brandon says, “just breathe so you can swallow my cock again.” He rubs the head of his cock in his palm. He traces the line of my jaw with it down to my chin. Then he pulls it back, and lets it slam against my cheek. I close my eyes and whimper, looking up at his with a questioning glance. He slaps me with his cock again. A sharp, wet clap echoes through in my ears.

  “Look at me,” he orders. His voice is deep and primal. I look up, and his eyes are brimming with heat. He slaps me with his cock again, and again, and again. He rubs the head across my lips, and the temptation puts my body into autopilot. I don’t mind it.

  I take his cock into my mouth and dive until my lips curl around the base. He grips my head with a fist full of hair just above my neck. He drives his hips up and down, pulling the head of his dick to the back of my tongue, and then slamming it all the way back in.

  “Fuck,” he moans between fast, deep breaths. “Your mouth feels so fucking good. You like me face fucking you with my big black dick? Huh?”

  I moan around his girth, knowing the vibrations will make him tremble even more. I race my fingers across my aching clit, and I feel that strong heat building again in my pussy. At the same time, his balls tighten and his dick pulses and swells.

  “Taylor,” he gasps, “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum in your throat!”

  I moan furiously as the waves send him over the edge. I feel hot streams of semen coating my throat, and my legs tremble as I cum on my hand. He pulls out of my mouth, and the last few shots of his orgasm splatter across my face. I smile as I lick the thick, salty liquid from my lips. He chuckles as he sweeps the rest up with his fingers and feeds it to me.

  Our eyes meet again. We’re sweating, panting, and shaking against each other.

  Bright blue lines of headlights beam through the truck’s steamy windows as someone turns onto the street. I duck down, collapsing onto him. His smile is huge, and my heart flutters. I lay my head against his chest and listen to his lungs fill with air and empty again as we catch our breaths. He rubs my back and twirls my hair around his fingers.

  We don’t say anything. We bask in the sensual silence, our bodies telling us all we need to know. This is not just sex; it is… something.

  It is beyond the fantasy I had in high school of him having his way with me in the back of his car in the senior parking lot. We are grown; we have baggage, but we know how to deal. We are out of the cliques and the social pressures; it’s just us. Us, still sweating against each other, listening to each other's heartbeats.

  I feel my eyelids growing heavy. I sit up and look down at him. He’s still smiling. He cups my cheek with his hand. We hand each other clothes as we find them. He chuckles at the handful of blouse buttons he collects from the floor. For a moment I think I lost my skirt, but I find it hiked up around my waist. Oh, yeah, and with a giant rip up the back…

  “Sorry,” he said, smiling. He was definitely not sorry, and neither was I. I giggled and blushed.

  Once dressed as much as I could be, I walk around the truck. He gets out, too, and meets me on the sidewalk. He puts his hand on my waist, and I chew my lip nervously. We can’t help but giggle at each other. He leans down and kisses my cheek.

  “Goodnight,” he says. “I’ll see you at work.”

  “Yes,” I say. “Yes, you will.”

  I turn and walk up the stone path to the apartment building entrance. I look back only once, and he’s still there, smiling wide. I take a deep breath. My heart has barely slowed down, and I’m not sure it ever will.

  Chapter Eight: Brandon

  I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles are white as more images from last night pop into my head. God, this girl. My dancer. Taylor.

  My pulse quickens, and I can feel my heartbeat in my hands. I shake my head furiously and scream at the top of my lungs until every cubic inch of air is out of my body. I gulp in oxygen until my pulse slows and my muscles relax. With my mind just a fraction clearer, I can see that she’s ruined me. I smile at the thought and hop out of my car, spinning my keys around my finger.

  Then I pause, and remember; I’d been ruined before, and not in the sex-so-good-I-can’t-even-think kind of way. The Navy, my family, my fiance, her family - it’s all a shell of what it once was, and what it’s supposed to be. I came out of it all empty, too. Taylor is the only spark I’ve had since. She’s the only glimmer of hope that I might be able to rebuild myself, my family, and my dreams.

  I sighed as I crossed the parking lot.

  Eli’s Electronics has a fairly small physical store, but I’ve been to one of its two warehouses to pick up special orders, and I know it has a sizeable inventory. Also, I’m a returning customer. What EE doesn’t have in stock, I have no doubt they’ll find for me. I came to order the remaining materials for the renovations at House of Stars. I have a few days of work to finish while I wait for them to arrive, so I don’t think the delay with the screen room impacted my schedule as badly as I expected it would.

  “Brandon,” the store manager greets me after the employee at the customer service desk radios him over. “What can I help you with this time?”

  Silently cursing the fact that I can’t remember the man’s name, I smile and shake his hand. “Landed myself a botched job and I need some wire and some more specialized components to fix it.” I pull the list from my pocket and hand it out.

  “Let’s see what you need.” The manager pores over the list and I glance around the store idly.

  A flurry of blonde hair emerges around the corner of an aisle. I straighten up eagerly, and sure enough, it’s Taylor. She’s wearing a pale blue tank top and jean shorts to combat the heat, and she’s tying her hair back in a ponytail as she walks. What’s she doing here?

  The beautiful girl herself answers my question as she comes to a stop in front of the laptops, trailing delicate fingers across the keys of one and flicking another’s touchpad into wakefulness.

  I wonder if she’s just looking. I keep returning to EE with my orders because I know they have fast, reliable deliveries or pickup times and quality products, but I wouldn’t buy a laptop here. Online prices almost always beat in-store prices on electronics like laptops.

  Come to think of it; I know Cullen ordered three laptops for the accountants a few days ago. They should be delivered any day now, but Taylor might not know that since she origina
lly wasn’t supposed to be an accountant.

  “—what’s here?”

  “Sorry, what?” I ask, taking an extra second to admire the curves of Taylor’s ass, just visible below the bottom hem of her shorts as she leans against a display and taps her toe.

  “Do you need anything else aside from what’s here?” the manager asks. “We don’t have anything you need in the store now, but the wire will take four hours to ship here from our warehouse and the rest of the electronics will be available in three days.”

  “I’ll pick up the wire along with everything else,” I decide. “I need it all at the same time, anyway.”

  “Alright then, you can pay over here.” He gestures to a register.

  My fingers hover impatiently at the slot and I push the card in as soon as the prompt appears. Taylor hasn’t left yet, but she’s nearing the end of the laptop isle and I need to talk to her.

  About what? Nothing, in particular, comes to mind, but I know I need to talk to her.

  Well, I suppose there is last night. She had looked so adorable and irresistible, standing outside the car and clutching her jacket with a smile that lit her face like no streetlight ever could.

  I just… I hadn’t known what to say. I spent all that time convincing myself that asking her to come to the bar with me was just a simple invitation between coworkers, but it had been a lie.

  Buried deep in the back of my mind, the idea—the hope—that something like that could happen had been very much present.

  And now I don’t know how to feel. I never thought I would feel and want these things again, not after Anaja took my heart in her hand and crumbled it into unfeeling dust.

  I don’t know how to feel, but when my eyes find Taylor as I return my card to my wallet, I know she’s the key to understanding myself.

  I thank the manager, stuff the receipt in a pocket, and make my way across the store. “Hey Taylor.” I inject some surprise into my voice as though I haven’t been watching her this whole time.