by Eva Luxe
“Can I help?” He stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind him. “Here, at least let me take that glass before it slides out of your hands.”
“Sure.” I shifted so that nothing else fell when he took it, and we both walked toward the kitchen. “Just set it in the sink.”
He carefully set the glass in the sink and I turned to put my other burdens on the island, bending over slightly to make sure the bottom of the towel wasn’t caught.
And then I felt a warm hand on my hip. On the bare skin above my bikini bottom.
“Gross from the pool?” he said mildly. He squeezed my hip, then his other hand wrapped around my hip on the other side.
I took a shuddering breath. “Yeah. You know, sweaty and covered with sunscreen.”
He pulled me back slightly, and I felt his hard cock press against my ass. “So, for you—” he pressed against my ass again, not quite a thrust, but enough so that we could both feel it “—being hot, slick, sweaty, and nearly naked is gross.”
“Ummm…”
“For me,” he continued, “that’s the definition of heaven. It’s every thought I’ve had, every fantasy I’ve been lost in, for weeks.”
“I wanted to look good for you,” I said breathlessly. “To dress up, wear heels and a short skirt.”
“Mmm. I’d like that. But I can’t imagine anything exciting me more than what I’m seeing right now.”
I took in a shuddering breath. I couldn’t believe this was really happening. Finally.
I wasn’t expecting it exactly like this, but I loved that it was happening this way. I loved that he just grabbed me and took what he wanted. Right when I was least thinking it would happen.
Adam’s hands rose, sliding up my body, skimming the sides of my breasts, rubbing flat-palmed up my shoulder blades, and then one long finger stroked the column of my throat, my pulse, my jaw. I turned my head, seeking it, wanting to wrap my lips around it. But he smoothed his hands back down my shoulders and arms, coming back up by squeezing my ass with both hands.
“You have the best ass,” he murmured. “So round and firm.” He squeezed again. “I can’t get it out of my mind.”
“Mmmm…” I moaned and pushed my ass against him, wanting that hardness against it again. He knew what I needed, and he pushed his cock between my cheeks. It felt amazing, but he was still dressed. I tried to turn, to help him get out of those clothes, but he placed a strong hand on my back and pushed me forward, back to bending over the island.
Fuck. I loved that he was taking control. It made me want to let go and give in to my wildest desires. Such a fucking turn on. And Adam sure as hell knew what he was doing.
He kept the pressure of his cock against my ass, flattened one hand against my back, holding me in place, then untied my bikini top. The straps flopped to the side, but not the front, since I had enough up top to hold things in place. He didn’t move the hand splayed across my back, but he stepped back, and I heard him messing with his belt, and then the whisper of his slacks falling.
He was so gorgeous naked: tanned, toned, athletic, with a muscular, tattooed chest. I suddenly felt completely inexperienced next to him, because I was.
“Adam, I…” I started to say, but he put his hand over my lips.
“Please tell me what I think you’re going to tell me,” he said, a small smile on his face.
“I… ummm…”
Suddenly, I felt foolish. Glad I was about to give my virginity to him, but unsure of how to say it. He began putting on a condom while I stood there like a dummy, wondering how to get the words out.
“You’re a virgin?” he guessed, his smile growing bigger now, much like his already large cock.
“Yes,” I told him, glad he had made it easier on me to come out with it. “I’ve never…”
“You’ve never let anyone fuck you.”
He drew me to him, fitting his naked body to mine, his cock pressing between my legs. I pushed hard, trying to ride it backward, but he slid both hands around to my front and pulled the bikini top away. Then his fingers were on both of my nipples, squeezing. I slapped my hands against the countertop and hissed, “Fuck yes, oh, fuck.”
“Yeah, baby,” he murmured. “That feels so good. I love your tits. I’ve wanted my hands on them for weeks. You like that, don’t you?”
“Oh God yes,” I gasped, almost sobbed. He dropped one hand to pull my bikini bottoms down and they slid to the floor, and I could feel his cock rub against my pussy—not going in, just teasing me while he played with my tits. “Fuck, Adam, please! Please fuck me. I need it! I need you!”
“You’ve never had any other cock in you, have you?” he asked, obviously very happy about the news still.
“No,” I told him. “I was waiting for yours. I wanted you to be the first.”
And suddenly I realized just how very true that statement was. I had gone on some dates, had made out with some boys, but none of them had ever done anything for me. None of them could compare to the gorgeous guy across the street, who had been my first crush and would now be my first fuck.
One of his hands slithered around me again and his finger slid into my pussy from behind. The other hand dropped and came around front to press on my clit. Then he bent forward and started to place open-mouthed kisses all down my back.
I couldn’t help it, I started thrusting forward against one hand and backward against the finger pushing inside me, bucking back and forth. I came with his hands all over me, and my knees buckled. I dropped my head down on the granite countertop, exhausted, but still somehow aroused and content.
“Fuuuck,” I sighed. “That was amazing. Are you going to let me turn around now?”
His cock was still hard, and still pressing against my ass. “I keep thinking about it,” he admitted. “But then I get distracted by your ass and I don’t want it out of my sight.”
“It’s not going anywhere,” I said. “But I want—” I almost said, But I want to hold you. But that would be way too needy, right? “Here.” I stood up, forcing him to move backward a step. “Sit here on this stool.”
I turned, and his eyes flickered from my ass to my tits. His magnificent cock was standing straight out, but he did as I asked and sat on one of the stools that we used for the kitchen island.
“Lean back,” I instructed. “On your elbows.”
He did it, his long, muscular body stretching out so that his cock was even more prominent. I climbed onto the first rung of the stool, then swung one leg over and straddled him. I reached down and positioned his cock at my opening, then lowered myself slowly onto it. He was huge, so it took me a few minutes, but finally he was buried in me.
His arms came down to brace my ass, and I leaned down to kiss him. He raised one hand to the back of my head and sat up slightly to return the kiss, and then somehow we were going at it hard, me riding him like a stallion, him thrusting up into me, my tits bouncing up and down against his broad chest.
The angle was perfect for me, and I came again, louder and harder than before. I kept my legs splayed and kept riding him until he bucked up into me hard, shouted hoarsely, and thrust wildly as he came. He went limp, then his arms came around my back and held me to him. I rested my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes.
“Um, Chrissy?” he said after a few minutes.
“Hmmm?”
“I didn’t exactly picture our first time in your parents’ kitchen.”
I laughed drowsily. “Me either. I certainly didn’t picture that for my very first time…our very first time together. But I couldn’t help it.”
He blew out a breath. “Me either.”
I looked up. “I was going to take a shower to wash off all this sunscreen. Want to join me?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Hell yeah.”
“I don’t know if I can get down.”
He sat forward, braced his hands under my ass, then stood up. I didn’t know how he had the strength to do that. I wasn’t sure I could even s
tand. Without leaving my body he walked over to the fridge.
“Grab a couple of beers, and we’ll take them in the shower.”
I reached in, grabbed a couple of beers, and he carried me all the way up the stairs to my bedroom. He was so fucking strong. That was so hot, and I found myself getting wet again.
He took me all the way to the shower off my bedroom, and finally set me down. I felt a sense of loss when he pulled out of my body, but I turned and pulled towels out of the cabinet while he started the water.
He stepped into the shower and then held out a hand to help me in. What the hell? I mean…it was so…sweet. So thoughtful. Even though my legs felt like noodles, I felt like a princess stepping into her carriage as I stepped into the tub.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed. He pulled me forward until the spray flooded over his hair and down his chest. He held me to him, and then turned so that I was under the spray. I bent my head back so that the water soaked my hair.
I thought we were going to have sex again—I was definitely ready. But he pulled me forward and began to lather shampoo in my hair. He washed me from hair, down my slick skin, inside my ass crack and pussy, and down my legs to my feet. It was…erotic. Sensual. It was different from anything I’d ever experienced—I still wasn’t in control. All I could do was receive. My horniness transformed into something quieter, simmering instead of flashing.
Like we had all the time in the world. And I knew that this would come to a crisis at some point, what with his job and my dad, but what the hell. Tonight, maybe we had the time.
*
An hour later we were panting in each other’s arms on my bed. He’d dried me off, but apparently couldn’t make it past my ass, and we ended up doing it again on my bed. Missionary position, face to face, my ankles hooked around his back, my tits squashed against his pecs.
I was so turned on by his muscular arms and broad shoulders, how strong and gentle and protective he was, that I came as soon as he entered me. He pounded into me, over and over, and it was so fucking good I came again. He went so fucking deep, I didn’t know if I could take him, but eventually I stretched out— a huge cock ramming into you again and again will do that.
I rested my cheek against his shoulders— God, those shoulders.
“Chrissy?”
“Mmm?”
“It’s almost seven. Do you still want to go out? We have reservations.”
I breathed out. “No, let’s stay in. Tonight anyway. Is that okay with you? We can just get a pizza or something.”
“Hmmm…” He made an exaggerated “thinking about it” face. “Wear clothes I hate, to wait an hour to eat overpriced food, or sit in bed and eat pizza naked with the most gorgeous woman in California? I just can’t decide…”
I laughed. “You’re such an idiot. Hand me my phone.”
I called the pizza place and snuggled against him while we waited for it to be delivered. When it came, he answered the door and paid for it (because he’d been planning to pay for dinner at the restaurant, after all), and I grabbed us another couple of beers. Then we spread out on my bed with a couple of napkins and ate right over the box.
“How do you like it at Monroe?” I asked him. We hadn’t gotten a lot of time together, and we had been too busy sneaking in quick makeout sessions to talk a lot. But he was smart and interesting, and dammit, I didn’t just lust after him. I liked him. “Is my dad a slave driver?”
He hesitated, obviously buying time by taking a huge bite of pizza. “He works us hard, but that’s everyone, not just me. I don’t know, he’s hard to figure out sometimes.”
“Is he?” I had never really thought about that. I knew he had a reputation as a tough boss, but he was just my dad as far as I was concerned. “Like how?”
He shrugged. “I can never tell if he likes what I’m doing. I mean, I know objectively that I’m doing good work, that my numbers are right, and that my projects are creative and solid. But he never says anything about them, doesn’t even really read the files and rundowns I give him. It’s almost like he thinks he hired me for something else, and he’s taken by surprise when I insist on actually doing the development job. I mean,” he shook his head and laughed self-consciously, “I know that can’t be it, but I don’t know how to read him.”
“Weird,” I said, “since you practically grew up here.”
“That’s what I thought too, but I was a kid. I guess I didn’t really know him all that well. It doesn’t matter, though. I’ll figure it out.”
“So, what would you be doing if you weren’t working for Monroe?” I asked. “You must have had some other choices, right?”
He looked up with his mouth half full of pizza. “Yeah, a few. I’m not sure I should tell you, though.”
I stilled. He wasn’t going to hold my dad against me, was he? “Why not?” I asked
“Because I might not get invited to any more of your parents’ parties!”
I laughed. “You were offered a job at Cartwright! Probably a good idea not to tell my dad that!”
“I’m sure he already knows.” Adam shook his head. “He knows pretty much everything.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Everything?”
Adam met my eyes. “Almost everything.”
Chapter 8 – Adam
“Hello, Adam.”
My fingers tightened over the keyboard, but I flexed them and didn’t look up. If Bianca thought she could put me off my game by lounging in my doorway like she was on display in a pastry case, she had another thing coming.
Besides, I’d spent the weekend with Chrissy Monroe. Bianca’s cold beauty and calculated poses had absolutely no appeal when compared to Chrissy’s natural heat and vivacity. As far as their basic character went, they might both be gorgeous, but they were complete opposites, and I knew which one I preferred.
“Hello, Bianca.” I didn’t look up. “What do you want?”
She batted her eyelashes innocently. I snorted. I’d learned the hard way that that “who, me?” look brought nothing but trouble.
“I want a few pictures, for the website,” she said smoothly. “And maybe a short interview. You know, rising star at Monroe, parents lock up your daughters, the usual. For the newsletter.”
I’d glanced up sharply at the “lock up your daughters” comment, but after watching her for a moment I decided it was just patter—just her way of trying to get to me. Besides, I was no danger to anyone’s daughter.
Thank God that Chrissy and I had our first sex on a Friday, because it took me most of the weekend to recover. After pizza and beer in her bed, we went at it again—I just couldn’t keep my hands off that luscious body. I felt like I was seventeen again, hard all the time, unable to get enough, needing her again almost as soon as we were done.
I wanted to stay the night Friday, and God knew she’d exhausted me enough that it was hard to get up and leave. But Chrissy was such a free spirit, I didn’t want to seem like I was making demands she wasn’t ready for. And, yeah, I didn’t want to seem needy. I had a feeling Chrissy would run fast from someone who was clingy.
Funny that she was a science major. Not because she didn’t seem smart—sometimes she seemed too damn smart for my own good. But she had such an easy, open way, and she was just so gorgeous—I could see her being a model, of course, but also a reporter or a young media executive. But maybe she’d learned the hard way that animals were a lot less stress-inducing than people.
I have no doubt that growing up as Gary Monroe’s kid would teach someone that lesson. Look at Jack—he’d gone into a career that would take him a world away from his family. If my own experiences with Gary were any standard, those two had spent their childhoods wondering if they had Dad’s approval or not—or if he even noticed they were there.
Chrissy texted me around eleven Saturday to ask if I wanted to go for a swim in the Monroes’ pool. Since I’d slept like the dead, I was wide awake and ready to go again. Which we did. In the pool. But her parents
were due back by dinner time, so our afternoon was cut short. I could tell she felt bad, but she didn’t have to explain it to me…the last thing I wanted was for Daddy to walk in on us, yell at Chrissy, and fire me. Which I had no doubt would happen.
“Fine.” I saved my spreadsheet. “What do you want me to do?”
“Smile pretty,” she crooned, and snapped my picture. I must have been scowling, because she sighed and said, “Come on, Adam, just smile. You know, look like you’re happy to work here.”
I was until you walked in.
I did my best to give her a natural smile, and she snapped four or five shots. She took a moment to flip through them, then smirked up at me. “Ooh, that one’s for my personal collection.”
I refused to react, just stared at her stoically. I knew what she was referring to—a couple years ago we’d spent an evening playing with the camera, taking a few memorable action shots so we could relive it all again later. I honestly hadn’t thought about that in years—after we broke up, I didn’t lie around reliving our greatest sexual hits.
“Are you done?” I said curtly. “I have work to do.”
“Oh, right.” She sniggered. “Your…work.”
I had no idea what that was about, but I wouldn’t put it past Bianca to say something just to bait me. I had once thought it was funny, but that was before I knew that she wasn’t trying to be cute. She was really that obnoxious.
“By the way,” she flounced around and spoke to me over her shoulder, “Gary wants to see you.”
“Fine.” I wasn’t going to let her see me jump up like some lap dog, but I wished to hell she’d get out of my office.
She pouted a little and finally left. I waited a good ten minutes to make sure she wasn’t coming back, and that she’d get bored if she were lying in wait somewhere. Then I cleared my screen and walked down the hall to Gary’s office.
“You wanted to see me?”
He looked up from his desk and waited—probably for the “sir” I refused to add. I didn’t have anything else to say though, so I just leaned against the jamb with an inquiring look on my face.
