by MK Moore
“Damn, baby. I look forward to hearing that often,” he says.
I reach over and grab a paper towel to dry my cut, then he opens the first aid kit and grabs a band-aid. He opens it and gently applies it to my cut. Then he places a little kiss over it. He. Kissed. It. How fucking cute is he? Wait...Are jailors supposed to be cute? Endearing even? This one fucking is. I look down at the Band-aid and smile.
“This is a Captain America Band-aid, you really are a child,” I say and he laughs.
“My youngest sister, Delaney, got them for me as a joke. That’s what she calls me. I was in the Army, just like Steve Rogers.”
“Really. That is sweet. Did you know his middle name is Grant?”
“I did know that. Are you telling me you are a nerd on top of this beautiful package.”
I frown, looking down at the floor. “I am a huge nerd and a proud member of man fandoms,” I say proudly.
“Me too. Which ones?”
“Star Trek, anything Joss Whedon touches. Supernatural, X-Files etc.”
“That’s quite a nerdy mix. Not to mention being able to quote The Terminator.”
“Oh, I am not nearly done. There are so many more,” I say laughing.
“We can talk more about that later,” he says, smirking at me.
“I bet that smirk you got going on gets you in trouble.”
“Just with my mama, beautiful.” He lifts my chin, so that I am looking him in the eye. The way he says it, almost has me believing him. “Don’t do that.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I say as I move to get off of the counter.
“Stay there,” he says thickly, walking to the little closet beside the fridge. He pulls out the broom and dustpan and sweeps up my mess. When he is all done, he comes back over to me, standing between my legs. “You got this look when I said that you are beautiful. Like you don’t believe me. I know that can’t be the case though.” How the fuck does he know me well enough to read emotions that cross my face? “I am going to say this one time. You. Are. Beautiful. Period.” I start to speak, but he cuts me off. “Don’t argue with me. Trust me, baby. I know beauty when I see it.”
“Thanks,” I say quietly. His fingertips trail down my cheek.
“Are you sure your hand is okay?” He asks.
“Yep. All good.”
“Good,” he says before his lips slam into mine. I moan, and my hands trail up underneath his shirt, so that our skin is touching. That Rihanna song “Skin” has never made so much sense. Oh my God. I can’t get close enough to him. He pulls back from me. I can’t help whimpering.
“You are so fucking mine,” he says looking into my eyes so intensely, I almost start crying. Almost.
“Thank you,” I say, breathlessly. He moves his kisses to my neck. My head drops back and I relish in the feel of his lips on my skin.
“Zoey, Zoey, Zoey, so perfect, so mine. Tell me that you are mine,” he demands. The way he says my name like it’s his mantra makes me wet.
“I’m yours, Grant. All fucking yours.”
Chapter Four
Grant
Goddamn. Zoey’s responsiveness to my touch has my cock about to punch a hole in my jeans and right into the fucking counter. Sometime during our kiss, her legs wrapped around my waist and the feeling of her thick thighs tightening on me is almost too much. My lips trail down her neck. I give her neck a bite. It’s a possessive move, but I want everyone to know that she is mine. Moving down to the tops of her large tits, I pull them free of her tiny strapped dress and put one light pink nipple into my mouth, while rolling the other one between my thumb and index finger. Her skin tastes like peaches.
Groaning, I savor her. I lean back a little, letting her legs fall lower. Her moans have turned into a whimper as I shove her dress up her hips, revealing her hot pink panties. I look into her eyes, when she nods, I kiss her again. She is soaked so thoroughly that she is leaving a wet spot on the newly cleaned counter.
“You are soaked, baby. Making a mess on my nice clean counter,” I tease her. Moving her panties to the side, I am pleasantly surprised that she isn’t bare, I slide a finger through her wetness, focusing on her puffy clit. I want to dip inside, but I don’t. I want her in my bed when I fuck her. Her hips buck and I watch as she writhes on the counter. I am grinding my cock against her soft thigh.
“Fuck you, Grant,” she says breathlessly. “We both know you are aren’t going to do a damn thing about it. Look around you, you are a few garbage heaps away from an episode of Hoarders.” Her laugh is strained, but that makes it so much hotter.
“You will never come if you don’t stop talking like that, Zo.”
“You have no idea what I am capable of. I can come anytime I want to. With anyone I want to. I don’t need you.” Her hands tighten on my shoulders, telling me that isn’t exactly true. I when I feel her little pussy flutter, I go at her harder, ringing out her orgasm, but I am unreasonably pissed. I don’t want to be reminded that she hasn’t always been mine. The only fucking reason I didn’t stop is because I am not complete bastard, but I guess the crazy train works both ways. I don’t ever want to hear about what she has done with other men again.
I have this uncontrollable need to marry this woman. Today. I step back from her and watch her tits heave as she tries to catch her breath.
“I need more,” she says, panting for air.
“Not now. Let me take you dinner?”
“What about you? You look like you could use some help,” she says pointing at my cock.
“I am good. For now. You’ve had a long day. Let’s grab dinner and we’ll come back here and watch a movie or something.”
“Alright. Can I change first?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll have your bag brought up.”
“Thanks,” she says, going into the bathroom. I hear the water running, and I imagine all the ways I can take her in the shower. I call down to Manny in the security room and have him bring her suitcase and purse up. I then call Julian.
“I am so fucked,” he says in lieu of a hello.
“I know the feeling,” I say.
“Dobrev has Marisol, but I get the feeling she wants to be there. So, I am keeping Natasha.”
“Good, then Zoey will have a friend on the island, because I am not giving her up.”
“I knew there was a reason we are friends,” he says laughing.
“You know this isn’t even the tip of the iceberg, mi amigo. I am taking Zoey to dinner tonight at Mesa de Cocina. I am only telling you because I’d prefer it we were alone, at least the first meal.” Mesa de Cocina is our family-style casual dining restaurant. We have several fusion cuisine venues, but this is my favorite.
“No problem. See you when I see you,” he says hanging up.
There is a knock at the door. I slide my phone back into my pocket and answer the door.
“Hey Manny. Thanks for bringing it up.” I take the handle from him.
“Yeah, bro. No worries.”
“You can get back to work now,” I say, looking up. His mouth is open, and he is staring over my shoulder. I follow his gaze and drop the suitcase. Zoey is standing just outside the bathroom door, wearing a too small robe. I growl. “Goodbye Manny.” I say shoving him out the door and letting it slam shut. Zoey jumps backwards, and I have to remind myself that given her reaction earlier, she has probably been abused at some point in her life. “Sorry baby. I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t want him looking at you.”
“Fuck, Grant. Don’t be a caveman. I just need a clean towel. There are none in there.” Of course, there isn’t. I never let anyone in here. I typically shower down in the gym.
“I will call down for some.”
“Thank you.” She turns and is gone before I can say anything else.
Walking over to the phone, I call down to housekeeping and order up some towels. While I wait for them, I finish cleaning up the room. At this point, it’s either dirty or trash so I am done before the towels get
here.
Without thinking, I walk into the steamed-up bathroom. I lay a towel down on the counter. Zoey is singing along to a song on the radio. I don’t know it, but she does, not missing a beat. I smile but as I turn around, my smile slowly fades. Now that I’ve seen what she looks like naked, we are never going to make it out of here for dinner. My cock, which finally went down, is back in full force. All those curves she is rocking, that long black hair...I need my hands on her. I might be a bastard after all, since her shocked gasp when she sees me staring at makes me want her more.
“Creeper much?” she finally asks, causing us both to laugh.
“Sorry, baby. I got a glimpse and I couldn’t look away.” She puts her hands on her hips.
“Can you hand me the towel, please?” she asks, smiling.
I hand her the towel and as soon as she is on the bath mat, I pull her towards me. I watch drops of water trickle down her skin. I itch to follow the trail with my tongue. Every damn inch of her porcelain skin is going to be mine. My hands tangle in her hair as I bring my lips to hers. The dropped towel forgotten on the floor next to us.
I feel crazed as my hands roam over her soft, soft skin.
“Jesus. You are so damn beautiful. Fuck Zo. I thought I could wait, thought I could be a gentleman, feed you first.” I say between my lips finding any inch of skin to touch.
“Fuck that. I don’t need a gentleman. I just need you.”
Chapter Five
Zoey
Gauntlet thrown, he lifts me and carries me the few feet to the bed. He is like a superman or something. He sets me on my feet and then I am kissing him again. I’ve been Trying to get his shirt off, so he stops for a moment to pull it over his head, then his mouth is back on mine. I am moaning like crazy. I feel like my soul has been on fire and he is the water putting me out. Or he’s the one lighting the damn matches. I don’t know what’s come over me. I am not the kind of girl who just sleeps with a stranger. I wasn’t waiting for marriage, but how do I know he will still be here in the morning?
“You are thinking too much, Zo.” I love when he calls me that. It gives me goosebumps. “Did you change your mind?”
“No, but don’t you think this is moving at rocket speed?”
“Maybe, baby. But who cares? I have never felt this way about anyone. Certainly not my ex-wife. You have been on my mind for weeks now.” Ex-wife? I want to know more about that, but I have a more pressing question.
“Weeks?” I ask.
“Weeks, baby. Six long weeks. I saw you dancing at the Bienvenido. I had a meeting and there you were. Made me rethink my whole damn life. I was going to find you after the meeting, but your shift ended.”
“Do you believe in fate, Grant?” I ask. My mind is reeling with all kinds of possible outcomes to giving into this urge right now. Not a single one is bad.
“I do now,” he says and I can’t help falling back into his arms. When he kisses me I get lost. His hands are on my hips, pulling me closer. When his lips run down the line of my neck, I am not expecting him to bite down on my neck and suck. It feels incredible.
“G-Grant.” I moan. I run my hands over his chest, digging my nails into his skin.
“Baby. Keep moaning like that and I’ll be done for,” he says as I go for his belt. I stop moaning, but my fingers fumble while I work his belt.
When I get his pants and boxers down, I look down and let out a long breath. He is straight up going to kill me with his huge cock. Straight. Up. Dead. I am a little apprehensive about the sheer size of it, but damn do I want it. I fling myself backwards onto his huge bed, in what I hope is a sexy manner. I am also hoping the sheets on this bed have been changed in the last week, but with the way he is looking at me, like he is starving, I’ll risk it. I think I’d need him even if we were in a disgusting bathroom in a club, full on Usher style.
He stands there looking down at me. I am so turned on that I can’t help propping my legs up, with my toes hanging over the side of the bed. When his gaze lands on my pussy, and his eyes go wide, I can’t help slowly trailing my fingers down my body before finally sliding two fingers through my wetness. Oh. My. God. I have never been this wet. I watch in fascination as he strokes his cock with the same rhythm that I am using on my clit. Slow, then fast and furious. I am literally dripping with need.
“Baby, when I get through with you, you will never need another dick again. Real or plastic,” he growls at me. Of course, he would bring that up again. I smirk, all the while knowing there has never been anything inside of me, real or plastic. That stupid fake cock is still in the box in my suitcase. I had wanted to see what the fuss was about, but this is going to be so much better. This is going to be everything.
“Prove it,” I say, steadily teasing myself.
“Keep playing with your cunt, Zo. Get it good and ready for me. I can’t be destroying you.” I am already destroyed, and he hasn’t even fucked me yet. I can’t stop looking at his cock. It’s red and angry. His fisted hand keeps stroking over it, he looks like he is on a mission. I am so beyond ready for this man to own me. I whimper, and he stops stroking himself. I slow my fingers, but I don’t stop until he grips my wrist and pulls my hand to his lips. He groans. “You taste so fucking good.”
“No fair,” I pout and drop my fingers, the ones just in his mouth, to his cock and swipe the precum that has gathered off of the head. I bring them to my lips and moan as soon as the taste of him hits my tongue.
“So filthy, Zo. We are so fuckin’ filthy.”
“So fucking what?” I pant.
His grin catches me off guard, and I am not exactly ready when he slams into me. With the bed being slightly elevated, He is standing, while I am laying down, but the added height lines us up perfectly. My cherry is no match for that, but it doesn’t hurt at all. I see something flash in his eyes, but he doesn’t slow down. Not that I want or need him to. His mouth lands on my nipple and I scream out his name. I use my thighs to grip his hips. My heels dig into his ass with every one of his powerful thrusts.
“Your pussy is so fucking tight, Zo. And it’s all fucking mine. Give me everything.”
“Everything is already yours.” I manage to say. His forehead drops to my chest and I feel him press little kisses there. This is monumental to me. Not just because it is my first time, but because it’s him.
“Damn right,” he says as I squeeze my thighs tighter around him as I cum. He shouts my name a few thrusts later. I feel his warm release inside of me. I have immediate visions of a whole brood of beautiful babies sitting around a Christmas tree and tears spring into my eyes.
Grant shifts, sliding out of me. The downturned bed looks inviting. I shimmy up the bed and slide under the covers. He lays down on the other side of the bed after taking his shoes off and finishing the removal of his pants and boxers. We couldn’t even wait long enough for him to get fully undressed. He pulls me closer to him so my head rests on his chest. He sweetly kisses the top of my head. Is it any wonder that I am in love with this man?
It is then that my tears start to fall, and I begin to ugly cry.
Of course, I would be the woman who cries after having earth-shattering sex...
Chapter Six
Grant
“What’s wrong Zo? Did I hurt you? I should have stopped,” I say rolling her onto her back, so I can look into her eyes. I feel like a fucking caveman right now. A very proud, very satisfied caveman. Her little pussy will only ever know me, and that does something to me. Something that can’t be explained.
“No. No. Everything is perfect. These are happy tears,” she manages to say between sobs.
“Baby, you don’t seem okay.” I am starting to second guess myself and I never do that, but I don’t want her to regret us.
“I’m fine. I promise. That was just so beautiful. I didn’t know I’d be so emotional. I am assuming this isn’t normal right?”
“Ah, no. But I don’t have much experience with this sort of thing.” Honesty actually seem
s like the best policy here.
“That’s hard to believe,” she says laughing.
Even with her tears soaking her face, she is still so fucking beautiful. I use the tips of my fingers to brush away her tears. As I look into her eyes, I realize that I am already in love with her. For me, it was instant, all those weeks ago in Miami, but I don’t want to scare her.
“I really don’t. Like I said, it’s been years since I was with a woman.”
“Tell me about your ex-wife.” she says, her tears finally dried up.
“You sure you want to hear about all that?”
“Yes,” she says with a sniffle. Fuck, even that is sexy.
“Gina was my high school sweetheart. She was my first. I was not hers. We met in eleventh grade. Six years ago, I walked into our house and found her in bed with Greg Watkins. He was her boyfriend before me. I thought I knew what love was, but I had no idea. We were married six years. Five of those years, she cheated on me. I divorced her. I called up Julian, who has been my best friend since sixth grade, and got him to hire me. The rest is history. I’ve been working with him ever since. Haven’t had much time for the ladies.”
“But you have time for me?” she asks.
“Fuck yes. You are different. Special.”
“I don’t understand cheating. Why get married if you are going to do that? Why be with anyone at all?”
“I don’t get it either. It isn’t something I would ever do.”
“Me either,” she answers quickly and gets out of bed. I watch as she moves over to her suitcase and tosses the vibrator box onto the floor. “Won’t be needing that,” she says as she keeps rooting around in the bag. That causes me to laugh. She finally pulls out a shirt and slides it on.
