Citywide

by Santino Hassell

  I dozed off and what seemed to be moments later, a sound snapped me out of the light sleep. My eyes cracked open, and I found myself staring at the window again. There was no telling what had jolted me, but—

  Something bumped the wall behind me. The sound was punctuated by a muffled moan.

  I’d expected this as soon as I’d seen Kip and Dee barely able to stop groping each other at every rest stop and then in the pool, but damn. Sighing inwardly, I closed my eyes, determined to not let it keep me up. It was a plan set to fail because I was now focused on what was going on next door. Every thump, moan, and louder cry worked its way into my brain until my body was tense and the lick of my arousal began to grow more insistent.

  After a tormented five minutes, I chanced a look at Stephanie. She had one hand pressed to her eyes as she bit her lip. Definitely not asleep. I dragged my gaze down her body, since she was a weirdo who slept without covers, and couldn’t help but notice the way her other hand was splayed on her abdomen, fingers flirting with the band of her little shorts. Her thighs were also pressed together.

  The lick of arousal widened and swallowed me whole.

  “How long have they been fucking this loudly?”

  Stephanie dropped her hand from her eyes and huffed out a long sigh. “Like thirty minutes? I have no idea.”

  “Huh. Didn’t think he’d have the stamina.”

  “Judging from her encouraging comments, he’s been fingering and eating her out for an eternity.”

  I stared at her shadowed profile, grinning. “I can’t tell if you’re mad or jealous.”

  “Both,” she muttered. “She sounds like she is genuinely enjoying this, and her voice is hot as hell. Now I’m horny and irritable.”

  My hand twitched with the urge to slide it down and cup my growing erection. Instead, I nudged her with my elbow. “Just close your eyes and pretend you’re somewhere else.”

  “If I was somewhere else, I’d already be on orgasm number three.”

  She sounded so fucking grouchy that I imagined she was oblivious to how hot she was getting me. That was just Stephanie. Blunt. No filter. Talked about sex the way other people talked about sports or music.

  “You’re that turned on by those two fools?”

  “Not them. Just . . . the sound of a woman enjoying herself really does it for me.” She shifted again, fingers still dragging along her waistband.

  I rolled on my side, trying to keep my attention on her face and not the way her body looked in the moonlight.

  “She could be the most annoying person ever, but knowing she’s probably on cloud nine as someone spends their time really turning her out is like . . .”

  Her voice was getting lower, her fingers now toying with the waistband. She shifted again, wetting her lips, eyes closed.

  “What’s it like?” My own voice came out in a husky scrape that she responded to with a deep breath.

  “It just jump-starts my imagination. I start wondering what they’re doing and then picturing it—not them, but . . . other people. Another woman on her back with her legs spread open, but not like . . . poised and pretty and clean. She’s sweaty, hair tangled from her own hands and her partner’s, and her pussy is so wet.”

  Stephanie’s breath hitched, but she kept teasing her waistband even as she subtly arched her hips. My dick was a fucking stone column. I ignored it and covered her hand with my own, sliding her fingers down into her shorts. I withdrew just as she found what she wanted, and watched with rapt fascination as her head fell back, thighs slid open, and her fingers went to work beneath the cotton.

  “Keep talking,” I whispered. “How wet is she?”

  “Soaked.” With her free hand, Stephanie squeezed her breast through her tank top, then rubbed her palm over it. Her eyebrows drew together as the motions got faster, the sound of her fingers sliding over her own flesh loud in the quiet room.

  “She sounds like a mess.” I moved closer, speaking into her ear without touching her. “Tell me what she’s doing.”

  Stephanie shuddered, her hips rocking against the bed. “Rubbing her clit. Pretending it’s someone else’s fingers.”

  The game we were playing flipped without me even thinking about it, and I pressed against her side so she could feel my dick. “Someone who’s gonna turn you out the way that girl next door is?”

  “Yes. Fuck yes. I want it so bad, Angel.”

  “Tell me what you want.” I pushed up her tank top, rubbing the smooth skin of her stomach and panting at my hand’s proximity to the heat between her thighs. “Describe it. Every fucking detail.”

  Her lips moved, but no words came out except for a rough moan punctuated by the increasingly wet sound of her touching herself. “I want someone to play with me,” she panted. “Push me down, yank my legs apart, and do whatever they want to my pussy until it’s swollen and sloppy just from them using me like a toy. Making me come hard over and over until I can barely think.”

  “Fuck yeah, Steph.” I gave in, grabbing my dick through my shorts and squeezing. “Tell me how to make you come the first time.”

  “Keep rubbing my clit. Fast. Like—just like that. And then, oh God—” A spasm went through her, and she sucked in a deep breath. She arched into her hand, muffling back a series of moans, and then squeezed her thighs together again. God, I loved watching her come. “Fuck.”

  Stephanie’s hand stilled, but she didn’t pull it out. She lay there, breathing hard, and continued squeezing her breast. I kissed the side of her face, trailed down, and then nudged her hand away so I could shove the tank top up further and run my tongue over her nipple. She hissed out a breath.

  “Feel better?” I asked against her damp skin.

  Next door, the party was raging. There was a consistent thumping now, but that was the least of my concerns. Stephanie’s body was an inferno against me, and there was growing tension thrumming between us. She swallowed audibly.

  When she didn’t answer, I put my hand over where hers was beneath the cotton. Even through her shorts, I could feel how wet she was. They were damp. “Does this need more?” I asked, rubbing my fingers along her hand.

  “Yeah . . .”

  I moved her hand with mine, and was ridiculously jealous of her fingers when she dragged them along her slit. “Is that what it needs, nena?”

  Stephanie released another tortured moan, arching up against me so I was forced to press against her harder.

  “Or do you want something in this tight little pussy?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, eyes opening to train on me.

  “Your fingers, maybe . . .” I trailed off, running my tongue over my lower lip as she gazed up at me with wild eyes. “Or did my bad girl bring something else to fuck herself with? Just in case she couldn’t sleep and needed something to come all over?”

  Stephanie’s mouth turned up at the sides. “In my bag.”

  I leaned over her to reach into the duffel bag still sitting next to her side of the bed. We were briefly face-to-face, and I took the opportunity to lick her parted lips. I sucked the lower one into my mouth, then kissed her messy and breathless as I rooted around in her bag. There was an interior pocket, and in there I found a glass dildo instead of her favorite vibrator.

  I knelt between her thighs, staring down at her in a way that I knew had to be filthy. “Trying to be sneaky?”

  Stephanie arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t know if I’d need to get off on the low.”

  The idea of her masturbating when she thought I was sleeping, or sneaking off to the bathroom to do it, drove me wild. My nostrils flared, and I reached down to grab my dick again.

  “Take your clothes off.”

  She did it with no pause, flinging her tank top somewhere and then kicking out of her shorts. Laying before me, she bent her legs at the knee and let me see every part of her—the heavy breasts, wide hips, thick thighs, and the wet mound between them. I gave her the dildo, watching her fingers wrap around the base. She dragged it along her sli
t, and I squeezed myself harder.

  “Let me see your dick,” she whispered.

  I shoved my shorts down my hips and let my cock rest in my hand. It was heavy and throbbing, pre-come already gathered at the tip. I stroked myself as she teased her clit with the head of the dildo, and found myself subconsciously rubbing the head of my own cock against her entrance. The need to fuck her consumed me, and I started a steady jerking rhythm. When she finally slid the dildo into her hole, I was fucking my hand wildly.

  With her knees pulled back, one hand rubbing her clit as the other drew the dildo in and out at a slightly frantic pace, she was the picture she’d described earlier. Sweaty and wild and shameless. Her brows were wound together again, mouth gaping.

  “Fuck it harder,” I panted, hand flying over my shaft. “And tell me how it feels.”

  “Amazing.” Stephanie’s hips jolted, and she spread wider, sliding it in deeper. “God, Angel, my pussy feels so good.”

  “It’s hitting you deep?” I hunched over her, one hand pressed against the wall behind us as I jerked with the other. “Nailing that good spot?”

  “Yeah, right there, baby.” Stephanie closed her eyes, like she was lost to the feeling, to whatever weird fantasy we were creating. “Yeah, there. Please, Angel.” Her thighs began to shake. Her lower lip trembled.

  Fireworks cracked through me at the sound of her breaking, anguished voice. I angled the tip of my dick against her ass, teasing the hole. Just the idea of fucking it while she used the dildo sent me into a meltdown.

  I came so violently that I shouted, deep and loud enough to be heard through the wall. The orgasm took hold of me, sending my hand flying over my pulsing dick, as ropes of semen splattered her thighs and her exposed ass. When she was a total mess, I leaned down and shoved her hand out of the way so I could rub her clit with my fingers coated in my come.

  She cried out my name as she came, her body jerking up against me and the dildo as she kept fucking herself even as she got wetter and stickier. When she finally pulled it out, she was shaking from the force of her orgasm and looked so beautifully ruined that I instantly covered her face in kisses.

  Stephanie wrapped her legs around my waist and forced me down on top of her, our bodies sliding together in the mess we’d created. After we came up for air, I crushed her to the bed with my body, loving how she kept her long limbs locked around me even then.

  “You have a couple minutes,” I whispered in her ear. “And then I lick my fiancée clean just so we can make another mess.”

  The next morning, it was a struggle to keep my eyes open, and my body was literally numb.

  Not only had Angel done exactly what I’d described—made me his plaything until I was reduced to a shuddering rag doll—but he’d . . . surpassed my expectations. There were times when I’d wondered how couples could stay together forever and never get bored of each other sexually, but he’d shown me just how many cards he had up his sleeve. Specifically, the playing-with-my-butt-while-fucking-me-with-the-dildo card had given me a nearly embarrassingly powerful orgasm that had put me into a coma.

  I still wasn’t sure if he’d gotten off again.

  And he’d never slid inside of me himself. His self-control was on another level. Now, of course, he was casually making scrambled eggs for everyone and talking sports with Marshawn and Scott as if he hadn’t kept me up all night causing my eyes to roll back in my skull. Meanwhile, I just wanted to nap. With him. Or eat breakfast and then go back to bed and watch TV or nap.

  We should have blown off the retreat and just stayed in my apartment all weekend with the AC on.

  The thought jolted me, and I turned away. Only twenty-four hours of pretending to be a couple, and my brain was already tricking itself into thinking we could behave this way all the time. It wasn’t just the sex I was sprung on—I’d known we were ridiculously compatible in that regard. It was the way I wanted to show him off to my coworkers—Look, he’s beautiful, smart, and competent!—and how my thoughts kept skewing to this idea that our mini vacation would be much better minus the other people. Even though this was all supposed to be an act.

  I tried to turn my attention back to the dumb game everyone in the living room was playing. It was supposed to be a team-building activity to come up with our vision of an amazing working environment, but had turned into everyone lazily discussing the broken facilities at the firm. I could tell by the look on Melanie’s face that she hadn’t intended it to turn into a bitch session, but there was no saving it now.

  Somewhere between a complaint about the copy machines and the lack of paper, Dee caught my eye. Her lips spread in a little smirk, but I kept my face neutral. Part of me wanted to be mortified that Kip had probably heard us, but a larger part of me did not care. Everyone was acting normal, except me and Dee being smug as hell. Although I’d planned to be a lot less obvious about how smug I was.

  We went through the motions of the next few hours without me being particularly excited about any of them. There were more games, swimming, a break for lunch, and then Scott announced that he and Melanie would be holding one-on-one meetings with us after we ate so we could give them feedback on the firm. Coming on the back of the morning’s first activity, where everyone had lodged complaints, it seemed like a bit much. Then again, maybe they were worried about staff retention. There had been rumblings from a couple of people, me included, about potentially finding a job elsewhere. I just hadn’t known those conversations had reached Scott’s ears.

  My bemusement must have been clear, because Angel nudged me.

  I stood as Marisol followed Scott and Melanie into the little library first, and gestured Angel to follow me. He got up, and I grabbed his hand, tugging him outside onto the deck.

  “I’m going to talk to him about the raise,” I said quickly. “Or is that a bad idea?”

  “I think you should do what you think is best.” Angel glanced down at our still-joined hands and squeezed. “You know what you deserve.”

  “Fuck. I know.”

  I let him go and ran my hands through my hair, stressing over the potential conversation. In all actuality, I knew exactly what to say, and I knew how I wanted to say it. The problem was that employers tended to respond a lot differently to me being direct and speaking my mind than when men did. And I knew if Scott had the wrong response, my mental seesawing over whether I should find another job would weigh more heavily on the side of leaving.

  Angel wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me just enough for me to relax against him. He kissed my forehead, one hand rubbing my back. “You got this, nena. These cats wax on about how amazing you are. How you’re a leader, and you know everything about everything.”

  I looked up at him, and saw the same pride in his face that I’d felt after watching everyone fawn over him. The satisfaction of everyone knowing that the person you cared for was wonderful and deserving of praise.

  Something in me cracked, and the splinters widened when he ran his fingers along the side of my face. I’d known him for so long, and had wanted him for so long, but for the first time, my heart thrummed in my chest, the vibrations spelling out very clearly that I loved him.

  Angel’s brow puckered. “What’s wrong?”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. “Angel . . .” He waited quietly, and his hands slid away from my arms. One look at him showed the clouds forming over the brilliance of his smile. He knew me so well that just by my tone, he could predict what I was about to say. “Baby,” I said, trying again.

  “Don’t call me that.” The gates had slammed shut, and his affection was gone. I hated how his face hardened, how his eyes went blank. “There’s no need to say anything else, Steph.”

  He started away, and I grabbed his wrist. “Please, just listen.”

  “Why do I have to listen to you reject me? I know what you’re gonna say.”

  “No, you don’t,” I hissed, moving closer until I was crowding him.

  “So, you weren�
��t going to tell me we need to ease up on acting like a couple because you’re worried I’m getting the wrong idea?” Angel raised his eyebrows, making a smart-ass face at my pause. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  My chest constricted, but I couldn’t find the words to explain how I felt in a way that wouldn’t hurt him. And the hurt was so clear even as he defaulted to his tough-guy expression—his mouth set hard and that dead-eyed stare. It was such a harsh punishing difference from the way he’d gazed down at me moments ago.

  “Can we talk after all of this shit is done for the day?”

  He shrugged, already looking past me. “I don’t see what there is to talk about. I’m not gonna screw you up here. I’ll stick to my role in front of everyone else.”

  I squeezed my hands into fists. “And when we’re alone?”

  Angel’s gaze flicked down to me. “I won’t bother you until you want me to make you come.”

  It was a punch straight through my chest, so painful that I had to turn away or else he’d see the wound he’d just inflicted. It wasn’t even the words. It was the fact that he’d said them deliberately to make me feel like shit.

  “Go talk to your boss, Stephanie.” His voice came out scratchy and hoarse. “He won’t let you go without a fight.”

  My eyes narrowed, and I jerked around as accusations filled my head and my mouth. Was he trying to say Scott wouldn’t let me go, but he would? I couldn’t help but think he wanted me to react to the statement. So I didn’t.

  “We’re really fucking shitty at this, Angel,” I said, voice clogging.

  “At what?” he demanded, defensive again.

  I jerked a hand between us so sharply I nearly hit him. “Everything.”

  His cheek clenched. “No, nena. We’re fucking shitty because we both know what we want from each other and won’t let ourselves have it.”

  “You don’t understand,” I said. “You never have.”

  Angel scoffed. “Believe me, I get it.”

  He walked away without saying anything more, and I wanted to scream into the fucking mountains until my voice echoed. The worst part was that I couldn’t chase him. Couldn’t demand he listen, or that he use his goddamn words and speak. Really speak. Stop skittering away when faced directly with this conflict, or bowing out of a fight before it began. But then again, maybe he wasn’t willing to. I wasn’t even sure if I could blame him.