by Trixie More
Probably so exhausted that night, he thought. She was so tired, she couldn’t stand up. Despite that self-doubt creeping in, he still believed there was something special about the kiss next to the truck. He let himself remember how she’d felt in his arms, all that perfect, firm ass in his hands, her belly pressed against his rod. Here in the kitchen, Derrick’s cock swelled a bit. He stopped his work and stood up, turning toward the back door quickly. Business was slow, but his grandfather was somewhere around. Derrick opened the back door and stepped out into the alley. With a bit of privacy, his mind went right back there.
He wanted to get a better feel of her ass, that was for sure, and his cock agreed heartily. Her ass had felt round and firm in his hand that night as they stood by his truck, her skin warm and soft as he’d reached under her waistband. God, he loved her ass. He wondered what it would look like if he coaxed her into bending over, spreading her legs, putting her palms flat on his running board, looking back over her shoulder at him, work boots on the sidewalk, jeans around her ankles, ass thrust up high. He’d have her begging for it, her pussy weeping around his fingers. He tugged at the crotch of his jeans, getting a little room going around his balls and then walked toward the dumpster. The fantasy had come out of nowhere, so vivid, his subconscious must have been working on it for days. He strolled a little bit farther from the door, just making up a show in case someone came out. He wanted to sit her in his lap, feel her hands in his hair, get his arms around her, get a hand on her full, firm, warm breast. In his mind now, he imagined how it might have felt that night beside the truck if he’d been able to slide his hand up her leg, under her skirt. Just to get his fingers there. Had she been wet? One hundred dollars said yes.
He took in a deep breath. Chances were, he’d never know. It was a bad idea to start something with the woman next door. If things went south, and they always did, then there would be tension, animosity, problems. That wasn’t what he wanted. Besides, how much time would they have for each other anyway? She was trying to run a business, and she had a father with dementia, even if she didn’t know it yet. For sure, getting into her pants was a bad idea. Long-term anyway. Short-term? He ran his hand over his scalp. He’d be better off picking up one of the customers at the bar, and that was something he never did. He didn’t even want that much trouble.
Erection issue resolved, mind made up, Derrick was just about to return inside when he heard the back door of the catering shop open. He bowed his head, not looking. He knew who it was, could feel who it was. The pressure in his cock started up again.
“Oh, hey, construction guy,” her voice sounded casual like it always did. At first, he’d expected her to be changed by their kiss, but she always seemed just the same. Could be, it was he who was altered. He turned and there she was. In jeans and a light blue T-shirt, curly hair pulled through the back of a baseball cap, a garbage bag resting at her feet. The catering vixen was gone. Catering general was all that remained.
“Hey, bossy chick,” he said. She cocked her head at him and smiled.
“How’re you doing?” Her expression was polite, but her eyes were diffident as if she was daring him to make this into something other than small talk. A challenge then. In that case, he was her man. It appeared he wasn’t going to take his own advice. He eyed her narrow waist, the swell of her hips as she hefted the bag and walked toward him. Since he was between her and the dumpster, he tried to take the bag from her, observing her expression. Her forehead wrinkled as her eyebrows drew down, a cross between irritation and what? What was going on in her mind?
“I’ve got it,” she snapped and tugged the bag back toward herself.
Even this? He wondered. What was it about taking help? He was determined to get the bag, so he gave it a little tug. Her expression darkened.
“I’ve got this,” she hissed.
With his greater height, it was child’s play to lift the bag out of her grip and carry it, held high, to the dumpster.
“Hey!” She chased after him. “I didn’t say you could do that.”
“Just garbage,” he said flatly, tossing the bag in. He turned to Allison and was shocked to see that she was furious.
“I didn’t say you could do that.” She marched up to the dumpster and, while he watched in amazement, she dragged the step stool over and climbed up, peering down into the trash.
“You going to pull it back out, so you can toss it in yourself?” Part of him thought that might be a big hell yeah, but he could tell the moment she came to her senses. She stepped down, and when she turned, he was amazed to see a bit of sorrow mixed in with the aggression. Then she was past him, marching toward her door. He side-stepped, keeping pace with her, trying to get a better a look at her face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really thought it was just garbage.”
“It is,” she said, marching back to her door. “I didn’t say you could take it.”
He reached her door at the same time she put her hand on the doorknob. Pressing his palm against the door, Derrick kept her from opening it. Of course, she just pulled on it harder. Alarmingly, serious muscle was required to keep the door closed; it was possible he’d have to use two hands to do it and wouldn’t that look ridiculous?
“It was garbage.”
“You didn’t know that!”
“Yeah. I did.”
At that, she slumped a bit. “Look, I didn’t ask for your help.”
He blinked. Nobody ever did. Why did that matter? To save his bicep, he turned, so he was leaning with his back against her door. In front of him, bossy girl crossed her arms over her chest. He didn’t know much, but he knew he couldn’t get within a foot of her; she was as wary as a bobcat with its hackles up.
She would have to relax before he could kiss her. Derrick realized he was tired of visiting her kitchen and pretending he wasn’t there because of her. He was tired of telling himself all the reasons this was wrong. He wanted to see how many of those vivid fantasies his mind could come up with. Boom. An image of her, naked and flushed, lying on her back on his worktable, robots and computer parts on the floor, sprang into his mind.
“Come here,” he said. Brown curls bounced as Allison shook her head. He imagined grabbing her thighs and yanking her to the edge of the table, those curls spreading out around her face. His mouth found something to say. “How’s your dad?”
Her face fell. Wrong question.
“I, I don’t know what’s going on with him,” she said. Derrick remained quiet, his brain fully back to the conversation. “Over Christmas, I spoke to his neighbors. And my roommate’s mom recommended this woman, she has sisters, they stay with people.” Derrick was surprised. He hadn’t thought she would act so quickly.
“And?”
“And one of them is there with him now. It’s going to cost a fortune.”
“Good decision,” he offered, and her gaze flew to his. There she is again. In her eyes was the young woman, navigating the world alone. Derrick took one step forward and stopped. He lowered his voice, “Come here.” She took a hesitant step toward him. That was enough. He took her by the hand, used the other to open the door and pulled her into the kitchen. She passed him, turned and backed up to her worktable. He crowded forward, put his hands flat on the table, one on each side of her curved hips, leaned forward, letting his pelvis swing back, brushing his lips against hers. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable, the pupils big and dark, her small nostrils flared. She held herself still, and then, fast as fire, she kissed him back.
The shop was empty. Allison could feel the callouses on Derrick’s warm, dry hand as he pulled her into the kitchen. She could have resisted, but her stupid, stupid heart was too busy making her hold her breath. He wanted her. She’d spit and hissed, and he came after her anyway. So now, she was watching him closely. If he tried to rule her, own her, she’d fuck him up. And if he walked away from her, she’d break, just the tiniest bit. Men like Derrick were disappointing creatures, and yet, she couldn’t resist. So few men roused h
er interest. Consequently, she backed away, stopping when she felt her worktable behind her, keeping her eyes on him, trying to tell which way the wind blew. She could have him now if she wanted him. That’s all Allie knew.
Ever since Christmas Eve, she’d been waiting for this, for him to make a move, no matter how small. When she’d stepped through the doorway and noticed him there in the alley, head bent, hands shoved deep into his pockets, like he was studying the pitted asphalt at his feet, her pulse had stuttered. Butterfly nerves and giggling over men had never been her thing, but this man, he made her restless. Admitting she liked a man as desirable as this one was almost beyond her. An attractive man put her on high alert, made her ready to defend herself. A man like this made her mean. She’d done her best to drive him away, and he’d stayed. Men didn’t want women like her, didn’t know what to do with her. She raised her voice, or her hands and they dove for cover.
Not construction god, he just circled around her like a coyote on the prowl, staying far enough out of reach until he saw his opening. He worked for it, and a part of her leaped in the hope she might have found a mate that was her match. For the moment, she would allow herself to believe it. He stepped up to her, keeping his face placid. She could smell him, she could catch every scent: his sweat, the garlic on the counter, the fresh air still clinging to his shirt, her own shampoo. He caged her against the table and bent at the waist, bringing his face even with hers. Allison watched warily as his sable eyes flickered, taking in her face. He was way too far from her. Although he had her caged and was leaning down to kiss her, there was no warmth. She felt suspended, balanced precariously, as if she was standing with her toes right to the edge of the Palisades, looking down where the straight, black cliffs plunged into the Hudson. The skin on the back of her neck prickled.
He leaned in another inch, eyes fixed on hers. Coffee. She could smell a bit of coffee on his breath. Another inch. He swiveled his head, tipping it to the side as if he was curious. His eyes held her steady, he kept his face perfectly still and then—heat. Finally. He brushed his mouth across hers, and her heels lifted recklessly, her toes pointing down, unbalancing herself, swaying forward, over the precipice. There was no regaining safety, so Allison reached her arms up and circled his neck, taking control of the kiss, of everything.
Now that she’d committed to jumping in, she couldn’t get enough of him. She walked forward, and he let her back him up against the refrigerator. Her hands slid over his plaid shirt, and she swore she could feel every thread. Beneath the weave of the cloth, his muscles rose, smooth, hard. Their contours were a puzzle for the ages, she could pass her palms over them for hours, feeling the way they sloped into each other, forming a bicep, a pectoral, and lower, a gluteus maximus. Derrick gave ground, making it easy and that just frustrated her, so she threaded her fingers through his hair, fisted them and gave a small tug. His grunt of surprise went right to her pussy. She had to resist just shoving a hand between her legs and rubbing. She focused on him. His hair felt like silk, so different from her own coarser waves. Her fingers opened and spread wide as she dragged her palms down the sides of his face, rough, where hers was smooth. He was tall, she was not. He was confident, and she was a woman with a good game face. They were opposites in every way, but oh God, he was so damn hot. She pressed herself against him, running her hands over his chest, feeling his erection against her belly even though she was on the tips of her toes. Then Derrick bent his knees, and her construction god was sliding toward the floor.
Hell yes. She followed him down until she was the one leaning over him, one boot on each side of his knees. He tugged the front of her T-shirt, and she knelt, straddling his lap, thrusting herself forward, feeling Derrick’s hot, hard cock as it notched right there. So damn sexy and so perfect. The roof could fall in, and she would just spread her knees wider and press forward harder. Now that she was touching him, she never wanted to stop. Allison bracketed Derrick’s face, left the heaven of his kiss and looked down at him. She couldn’t resist raising her thighs just a bit more and pressing forward, flexing her hips, rubbing up and down, knowing already that he would be proportional, would be perfect. Beneath her, Derrick closed his eyes as he groaned, the back of his head pressed to the refrigerator. He turned his head, one cheek on the cold steel. His chest expanded and his abdomen pulled in, and she canted farther, the toes of her Wolverines scrabbling for purchase. Holy hell, she was as horny as an alley cat, writhing against his cock while she began kissing his cheek, his neck and letting her tongue slide deliciously around his ear. Beneath her, he shuddered and grabbed for her hips. He lifted his mouth to her even as he pushed her back from him.
“Wait,” he breathed. Allison leaned her forehead against his. “Just wait.”
Resting her ass back toward her heels, she sat back on his thighs, trying to honor his request. His quads felt like iron under his soft jeans. She slid her palms forward, not able to resist reaching for the enticing bulge folded up against his zipper. She stroked his cock with her hand, loving the feeling of the hot evidence of his arousal against her hand but he stopped her, using his rough hand to hold her back.
“Wait, please.”
The please undid her. Oh, she kept her hand still, and her full-out assault didn’t involve the man’s cock, but she let herself loose with a flurry of kisses, rubbing herself against any part of Derrick she could get to. If the man put his hand there, she would go off like a firecracker. As her mouth roved over his, tangling their tongues, sucking and licking, he grunted and grabbed her roughly by the waist, rising up onto his knees, wrapping his arms around her midsection. And then it was all him. He stood, bringing her with him like she was a bag of flour. Her ass connected with the worktable and then he was pressing forward. Allison spread her legs as far as she could and then wrapped them around him, and he flat out growled at her.
Yes! She threw back her head and let out a small breathless laugh as he attacked her neck, causing all the nerve endings there to fire at once. Between her legs, his hand slid slowly up her right thigh. She held her breath. How long had it been? Ages. His hand stopped. Her lashes parted, and she looked into eyes of dark brown velvet around wide, black centers.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he said. He sounded slightly confused. Allison knew how he felt. She didn’t understand why he wanted her either.
“Yes, you can,” she said and bit his lip. His lips pressed together, handsome face tipped to the side, dark hair falling down into eyes that held a warning there. That expression made her catch her breath. She’d gone too far. She looked down for a second and then found her courage. Allison looked Derrick in the eye, and his expression opened. She could do this. “I feel it too,” she said. Oh, the words were so dangerous. Why had she said them? She didn’t have time to wonder because that big, warm hand was moving up her leg and on her left thigh, his other hand had joined in. The man was spreading his fingers wide, thumbs tracing just above the inseam of her jeans, getting nearer and nearer. Her clit felt full, standing proudly at attention. Her whole body tensed. There, her body sang out. When would he touch her there? The feel of his tongue and nose against her neck and ear was enough to drive her mad. She curled her hands around his biceps feeling the bulk of him, the hard, rounded muscles, the way they rose and cradled his shoulders, the strength in his neck. Then her hands were in his hair, pulling him into her and his thumbs were there now, both of them stroking against her pussy lips, rubbing either side, no rhythm that she could catch, her inner walls contracting hard. Please, please was in her mind and she must have said it out loud because Derrick was speaking now. He was speaking to her, so many words, so many beautiful words at once, his thumbs taking turns on her clit, pressing through her jeans, making little circles, pushing the seam of her jeans hard into her, and then pressing it away.
“That’s it, Allison,” he crooned. “So strong, so beautiful.” She could feel every one of his fingers. “God, you’re perfect. Let go. Show me.” He slid his mouth down t
o her collarbone, yanking her shirt to the side and laying his tongue wide and flat and hot on the bone. She pictured that stubborn mouth of his as she felt him move back up her neck and then he was resting his cheek next to hers as his thumbs did their magic.
“Oh, please, please.”
“Come on. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous like this. I want to see it, show me, Allison, go ahead, show me how you come.”
She tilted her hips and ground herself into those big hands. She could feel Derrick’s fingers digging into her thighs as his hands rocked.
“Ahhh, my God, Derrick! So close.” She flopped back onto the table.
“Damn it! Get these off.” The words exploded out of him as he lifted her ass up and she didn’t hesitate, her traitorous fingers were pushing the button of her Levis, ripping down the zipper and pulling her jeans down so fast, you would think she did this every day. The fact that she never did this was all she could blame her panic on.
Please don’t let this stop, she prayed as she plunked her ass on the cold table. Derrick tried to pull her jeans off over her Wolverines, but it was a lost cause. He tugged on her boots, but they didn’t budge, tied up tight just like her. With a smirk, he pressed her knees back, ducked and came up, back inside the circle of her legs. She locked her ankles together behind his back and snaked her arms around his neck.
Don’t let him leave. Don’t let him stop. Allison was dead confident he was going to evaporate out from between her legs like a mirage. Not if there was anything she could do to keep him there. “Please!”
Derrick was as substantial as a skyscraper. He took up right where he left off, thumbs sinking into her soaked underwear, groaning as he did it.
“Wet,” was all he said. And then he was gone, pushing back, bending forward and licking her right through her panties. Which ones did she have on? Too late, they were nudged out of the way and then all that silk hair was brushing up against her thighs, and she heard him growl.
