by Lauren Runow
Her phone rings, and when she sees April flashing across the screen, she apologizes to me and answers. There’s a brief pause before she says, “I’m out, too.”
I can’t hear what’s being said on the other end, but by the way Harper is trying to hide her cute giggle, I know she’s saying something about me.
“Okay,” she says into the phone. “Thanks for letting me know. I hope it’s not too late of a night.”
After she hangs up, I nudge her shoulder. “What was that about?”
“April, my roommate, has a work crisis, so she was letting me know she’s not going to be home until really late.”
I smile but don’t respond.
We turn the corner, and she stops, taking a breath while looking at me, then to the building, and back to me. “Do you want to come up?”
“I’d love to.”
She nods, still looking unsure of her choice. “Oh, um, okay. So, yeah, my keys …” She’s stuttering, and it’s so adorable that I want to wrap my arms around her and hug her tightly.
After she retrieves her keys, she unlocks the door and enters the lobby of her place. We climb the stairs, me following behind her. At her door, she smiles up at me but stays silent.
I grab her hand. “There’s no reason to be nervous. I don’t have to come in if you don’t want me to.”
She looks at me and shakes her head. “No, sorry. It’s fine. It’s just … it’s not my place. I live with April, but really, I’m crashing on her futon.” Her head tilts down like she’s embarrassed.
I blow it off. “No worries. We’ve all crashed at a friend’s place a time or two.”
She opens the door, and we enter. She puts her stuff on the table.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asks, sliding her own jacket off and hanging it in the closet.
She’s wearing a pair of dress pants and a button-down. While most men would tell you a dress is sexier, I happen to find this look—with her top button undone to show off her gorgeous breasts and pants that hug her toned ass—gorgeously alluring.
I nod, and she heads to the fridge, opening it up and searching inside. She grabs a beer, opens it, and places it on the counter without getting herself something to drink.
As she pushes a curl behind her ear, I remember the night she spent in my bed and when I watched the curl fall over her face as she fell asleep.
“Why did you leave without a way for me to find you?” I ask.
She runs her hand along her forearm. “I’d give you a few reasons, but I’d probably be lying.”
“Then, tell me the truth.”
With her brows curved and her mouth pouted, she opens her arms and gives me her honesty. “Because I like you more than I should.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
“Terrible.”
I grin. She’s confident and coy at the same time. Something I think I can relate to.
“Now that we’ve found each other again, are you willing to give it a shot?”
“Yes.” Her answer is quick.
I take my coat off and lay it on the counter. “Can I stay awhile?”
“I was hoping you would.”
Her teeth skim her bottom lip as she reaches up and runs a hand along my chest. I take a quick breath. Not prepared for how the feel of her again would affect me.
I take one of her tendrils in my hand and run my thumb along the silky strands. “Don’t vanish on me again. I don’t have many rules, but leaving me the way you did is a hard limit.”
“Why are you giving me another chance?”
“Because I find you impossible to resist.”
Her eyes flutter closed at the compliment, and I watch her long lashes dance on her porcelain skin. I bet she has no idea how beautiful each of her features is. She makes me want to draw her. More than that, I want to paint her, all of her, and on her again.
I glance at the refrigerator and wonder what my chocolate-loving girl has in there. Stepping to the side, I walk over to it and open the door to find a bottle of syrup on the shelf. I grab it and close the door, watching as her brows rise at the sight of it. She knows I’m not in the mood for a child’s drink.
She steps backs, so she’s flush against the counter, and I press my body up against hers. Her breath hitches, and when she glances up at me, my heart pounds out of my chest. Nerves work their way up my spine, causing my own breath to be ragged. With her feet bare, her head comes to my neck, and my hard-on presses up against her stomach. I wonder if she can feel it, but when she wiggles her body, I know for certain she does.
I squirt a tiny amount of chocolate syrup on my finger and reach it up to her, seeing if she’ll lick it off my finger. Anticipation racks my body until she smiles and slowly leans forward to wrap her tiny mouth around me, waiting a second until pulling back and licking my finger clean.
My brain and my cock jump in excitement. Impossible to resist is an understatement. I’m addicted, and I haven’t even taken her to bed yet.
I love how she dares herself to try new things. I love the way she stimulates my mind and my body with her thoughts and words. But what’s getting me the most is the way I can tempt her, and she doesn’t hesitate. She makes me feel like a god, yet I am just a man, here to serve his queen.
I squirt some more chocolate on my finger, but instead of giving it to her, I move her hair out of the way and run the syrup down her neck, leaning in to lick it clean.
The moan that escapes her lips gives me more motivation, so I slip her shirt down her shoulder, dropping a tiny bit of chocolate on her bare skin before leaning in, lapping every sweet morsel and only wanting more.
I lean back, making sure she’s with me and that I have her approval. The way her eyes burn with desire makes it hard for me not to rip her clothes off and take her right here on the countertop.
To my surprise, she starts to unbutton her top and removes it completely without me having to say a word. That fire she gets in her eyes when she sees what she wants is lit right now. And she’s looking at me.
I slide my finger under her bra strap, letting it fall off her shoulder, and leave kisses where the strap used to be. I feel her reach for the chocolate, so I gladly give it to her, wanting to know where her mind is going.
Leaning her body back, she squirts a line of chocolate down her neck, between her plump cleavage, and back up the other side. Before I lap up the sweet goodness, I completely remove her bra, seeing her peaked nipples dying to be licked, like they are the cherry on top.
I know I should start at her neck, but between her breasts is looking way too tempting. The way my mouth fits there perfectly, touching each breast equally while I lick my favorite dessert, makes my cock so hard that I think my zipper might break.
Again, proving this girl might be the death of me, just when I think I’m going to bust my pants open, she reaches down, unzipping my jeans and freeing the beast I have become.
Her hand wraps around me, and I have to stop, relishing in the brief relief she’s offering me. I’m at the mercy of her palm, and right here, right now, I’d do anything just to give me more seconds to feel the sensations running through my body and straight to my balls, dying to release from my cock.
“What are you doing to me?” I ask in disbelief.
She doesn’t answer, just grabs my shirt, pulling me toward her. She kisses me so breathlessly that I think I might pass out, but there’s no way I could ever stop.
I wrap my arms around her, picking her up so that her legs wrap around my waist. When she grinds down on me, I gasp, almost afraid I’ll blow my load like I’m some teenage boy.
That’s how she makes me feel. This excitement is a rush that I only felt the first time I had sex when I was dying to feel that warmth for the first time.
That’s me.
Right now.
It’s been years since I lost my virginity, yet I’m back there again, praying she’ll let me go all the way.
She breaks our kiss. “Please tell me you
have a condom.”
Fuck. Yes.
“I’ve got you. I promise.”
With that, she grinds down even harder, and I am barely able to ask, “Room? Where?”
She giggles when she says, “Office.”
I’m quick to make my move, trying hard not to notice the weakness I feel in my legs from all my energy going straight to my dick.
I spot the futon she spoke about to the right. As I place her down, I remove my shirt and am on her in point-two seconds flat.
Feeling her naked breasts pushed up against my chest lights my insides in an inferno, and as I lean down to lick the remaining chocolate off of her, I hear her say, “Pants. Now. Please.”
I chuckle against her belly as I move lower to unbutton her work slacks and slide them down her pale legs, revealing the cutest lavender lace panties. The vision makes me want to paint an entire background of just the way her body matches the smooth material.
Leaning in, I kiss her and feel the wetness seeping through her. She’s more than ready, and we’ve barely even started. I nip slightly at her clit, still covered in the material, and she jolts off the bed, letting out the sexiest yelp.
When her hands grip the sides of my head, bringing me closer to her, I do it again, and she moans, pushing against my mouth and having no shame in riding my face.
And I fucking love it.
I move the material out of the way, seeing her bare pussy centimeters from my lips, glistening for me.
I did that to her. The thought brings me so much pride that I want to puff out my chest and show her just how much more I can do to her.
As my hot tongue slowly slicks up her center, her legs tighten, and her ass tightens against my hands. She’s at a level of ecstasy I’ve never seen, and it’s getting me off, just seeing the way she’s melting at my touch.
“Oh God, Tanner. Please. Please don’t stop. Please. I-I—you—fuck.” She’s speaking gibberish, and I know exactly what’s she’s feeling.
I remove her panties the rest of the way and stand up to remove my pants, grabbing a condom from my wallet before I do. She’s panting when she reaches up, stealing the condom from me and ripping the packet open. Crawling over to where I am, she raises her eyebrows at me as she slides it on, making my head drop back as I try hard to calm myself.
As she lies on her back, I lie on top of her, pushing my way in slowly, and we both moan at the way our bodies become one for the first time.
Taking a deep breath, I have to pause, closing my eyes and truly enjoying the warmth her body offers, wrapped tightly around my cock.
She gasps as she wiggles underneath me, trying to gain friction. “I-I don’t want to come this fast,” she pants.
I lean back to see her eyes pinched together. She’s serious right now.
“Please move. I’m. So—”
I slightly pull out, and she moans from so deep inside. I slam back into her, making her scream out as I get my rhythm. Every time I slow down, she groans, wiggling underneath me in sweet agony.
I’ve never seen a girl so responsive to sex. Her entire body is lit on fire, and with the slightest touch, it seems like she’ll explode.
And, when she does, I pause, amazed at the way she squeezes me as her body goes tight underneath me. A scream intertwined with a moan escapes her mouth in a breathy tone as her chest rises, and her head falls back on the bed.
Mere seconds later, I follow her release and lose all control as I grip her beneath me, barely able to breathe, as my body feels like it was just drained in the most intense way.
10
TANNER
I have an hour in between classes, so I walk to a diner to grab a quick bite to eat. Once I’ve ordered, I choose a corner booth, and before I can take my first bite, my phone rings. Austin’s picture—the one he put on my phone of him standing in front of his Camaro, wearing a leather jacket, blue jeans, and the cockiest fucking smirk I’ve ever seen—appears. The guy loves himself; that’s for sure. I don’t give him too much shit about it.
“What’s up, brother?” I say as I accept the FaceTime call and pop in my earbuds.
“Are you having soup for breakfast?”
“Lunch. I’m three hours ahead, remember?” I put the phone against the square silver napkin dispenser, so I can talk and eat at the same time.
“What’s good there?”
“I got some clam chowder.” I hold up the spoon, showing off the creamy goodness.
“It’s in a glass bowl. Who eats clam chowder out of a normal bowl?” he asks, confused.
In San Francisco, it’s a mortal sin to eat it in anything but a sourdough bread bowl.
“New York does.”
“You’re shitting me, right?”
“Believe me,” I say, taking a sip of my soup, “the first time I ordered sourdough toast for breakfast, the waitress looked at me like I was crazy. She said my choices were rye or whole wheat.”
He laughs out loud. “Is there no sourdough in the entire city?”
“I found this awesome bakery in Chelsea Market that makes it, but it’s not the same as back home. According to the baker, the yeast is best grown on the West Coast.”
“Well, there you go. Yet another reason to come back to San Francisco.”
I laugh out loud. “Yes, that makes total sense. I’ll tell everyone I’m moving back home just so I can have sourdough bread,” I say sarcastically and open the bag of crackers that came with my soup. “But, hey, at least they gave me this awesome little bag of oyster crackers.”
He slams a fist into his chest as if a sword just went through it. “This is sacrilege.”
I take a giant spoonful of soup and crackers and eat. “As soon as I get home, we’re going straight to Fisherman’s Wharf.”
“Hell yeah. Crab Station.”
“No way. Nick’s Lighthouse’s chowder is better.”
“We’ll hit up both.” He grins and sits back in his seat within his office. “So, you are excited to come back, right?”
I shrug while taking another bite as thoughts of Harper run through my head. “Absolutely.”
He sits up, placing his elbows on his desk, and looks straight into the screen. “Why don’t I believe you?”
That’s Austin for you. Always there to call you on your shit.
I put my spoon down and run my hand over my chin. “Let me ask you a question. And don’t get your panties in a twist, okay?”
He doesn’t nod, just stays stern-faced.
I continue anyway, “What if we did sell the company?” I see his jaw twitch on the screen. “Just hear me out. Mom started this company because it was her passion. Her dream. She built it up for us. Well, she’s not here anymore, and we’re supposed to live out something that was hers. Maybe part of her dream was for us to sell it and use the money to live out our own dreams. Our own passions.”
A surge of nervous energy washes over me as Austin stares blankly at me.
“She said you could be persuaded,” he bites.
“Fuck what Missy said. This is me and you. Brother to brother. If I’m going to give up everything, then I need to know it’s for the right reasons. I have to see it’s not because you and Bryce are in some pissing contest with Dad.”
“My stream’s longer.”
I half-smile. “Seriously, man, is this all worth the fight? Is it worth Missy trying to have you arrested for illegal street racing just so they can absorb your shares? I hear your days and nights are starting to blur—and not in a good way.”
He runs a hand through his thick brown hair and sighs. His eyes dart up as his nostrils flare. “I don’t know what’s worth anything anymore. I fought in a war and didn’t have as much anger as I do every day in the halls of this building.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Wouldn’t you be happier, taking the cash and opening your own legal racing circuit? A track of your own, maybe a franchised team? I don’t know … anything other than drinking through your days and racing aw
ay your nights.”
Austin pauses. His gaze looks down toward his hands as he purses his lips. His head bobs as if he’s recalling a memory.
“I don’t race for the reasons you think I do, Tanner. And I’m not mad because of this building. I’m angry for things I can’t explain. Not to you. Not Bryce.”
“Then, who?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer. That far-off look is back on his face, and so is that half-smirk.
“You met a girl.”
His attention is back on me. “The only girl I’ve met recently is a pain in my ass.”
I let out a laugh. “Whatever you say.”
No longer hungry, I push my bowl away and lift the phone to get a better look at Austin. He’s in his office, wearing a suit, and his hair is combed back. I can see Alcatraz out the window over his shoulder.
Austin sits up and looks at me seriously. “You were young when Mom died, so this company and the love that it stands for doesn’t impact you as much as it should.”
“I hate when you play the age card.”
“At fourteen, you were just getting a taste of what she did on a daily basis.”
He’s right, and he’s wrong. I might have been younger than them, but the memories of my late mother are strong. I just wish I had more of them.
“Just don’t do anything rash without talking to us. Promise me,” he says.
“Austin, you know I wouldn’t.” It’s true.
He’s looking around his office like he’s searching for something—what though, I don’t know. “Just remember it’s about us. You, me, Bryce, and Mom.”
“Believe me, I remember.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later, I guess.”
I click the End button, frustrated. I leave a tip on the table and head out the door.
On my way back to campus, my phone rings again, and I instantly think it’s Bryce with his turn to bitch me out. To my surprise, Harper’s name graces my screen.
“Well, hello there,” I answer with a bigger smile on my face than I should have.
