by Amelia Mae
I whimper, my pussy strained, never having taken someone so thick before. It hurts for a second, but as he sinks deeper inside of me, the pain subsides and all I feel is pleasure.
Fullness.
Ian inside of me.
His lips on my neck.
His hands roaming over me, wherever they please.
It feels incredible.
He pulls out and rocks back in again, this time pushing his entire length inside of me, grinding his pubic bone right into my clit. I moan in his ear.
Fucking perfect.
He thrusts again. And again. I rock my hips to match his movements.
Beads of sweat form at his brow as he thrusts into me hard, but controlled.
My legs begin to shake, my head rolls back, my body completely at his mercy. The closer I get to orgasm, the only word I can make out is his name.
I gasp and cry out loudly as I come, Ian still barreling into me.
Seconds later, he’s there too. I feel his cock pulse and I tighten my muscles around him.
“Fuck, Cora,” he groans.
He buries his face in my neck as he floods the condom.
He lingers for a few minutes, going soft inside of me, his body slack on top of mine, his hot breath warming on my shoulder.
I cup his face and draw him into a sweaty kiss.
Finally, he pulls out of me and leaves to take care of the condom.
“Don’t move,” he warns, playfully.
I couldn’t if I wanted to. So I just lie there, my limbs feeling like jelly, completely sated.
As Ian takes his turn cleaning up in the bathroom, I curl to one side of the bed, bracing myself for the million dollar question: Am I staying the night?
I think I want to.
But does he want me to?
I decide to err on the side of caution and get up to look for my clothes. I mean, I’ll have to do that at some point anyway. I tread back into the kitchen and find my soaked panties on the floor. Definitely can’t wear these. I head back into the bedroom for my dress only to find Ian leaning against the door jamb, still completely fucking naked.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
God, he’s…ugh. All inked and muscled and… holy hell I can’t think when he’s naked.
“I can lend you something to sleep in if you want,” he offers.
He’s asking me to stay.
“Um… no,” I reply, “That’s okay. This is fine.”
“Come on,” he says, his voice all sexy and sleepy.
Ian lies down on the massive bed and pulls me under the covers with him. His chest against my back, he wraps his arms around me. I feel his heart beat. I feel his chest rise and fall with his breath as he mumbles a good night and it’s so soothing. I shift so that I’m facing him. His eyes are closed and his body is completely relaxed.
As tired as I am, I can’t stop staring at him.
I can’t say that he looks innocent. Not after all that. But there’s still a hint of boyish-ness in his face. Like somewhere still in there is the nerdy freshman who loved wacky cartoons and marching band and got a crazy crush on the first girl that ever talked to him.
I curl into his chest and fall asleep.
9
Ian
I wake up to my sheets smelling like sex and Cora’s green apple shampoo. I inhale deeply, just letting half-asleep memories from last night wash over me. Cora’s supple body underneath mine.
How wet she got from a simple touch.
The beautiful noise she made as she came.
I turn over, expecting to see her lying next to me, but I’m alone. Her side of the bed is cold.
But, as I look around the room, I see that her boots and her dress are still on my floor. Okay, obviously, she didn’t try to go home naked.
I hear a metal pan crash to the floor.
“Ow! Fuck,” Cora winces from the kitchen.
I can’t help but smile. I’m the first man to ever taste her, which fills me with a crazy sense of pride. And fucking her was better than anything in my wildest fantasies. I came so hard I saw stars.
And now she’s in my kitchen making breakfast.
This has to be a dream.
I open the bedroom door and peer out. Cora’s flipping something in a pan that smells delicious. She’s wearing my tee shirt from last night.
This can’t be real.
I rummage through my dresser for some clothes, my eyes still on Cora.
She rises to her tiptoes to reach something in a high cabinet. As she reaches overhead, the tee shirt rides up, exposing her ass.
My tee shirt. No panties.
Screw clothes. I head into the kitchen buck naked.
And hard.
I approach her from behind and snake my arms around her waist.
“Morning,” she says cheerfully.
“Mm-hmm,” I whisper as I kiss her neck and shoulder, pressing my body against hers, making sure she can feel every damn inch of what she does to me. It makes her jump.
“I’m making French toast,” she says, playfully ignoring my ploy for morning sex in the kitchen.
“Sounds good.”
“Hungry?” she asks.
I nod.
As she turns to head towards the fridge, she purposefully brushes her ass against my throbbing cock.
Fuck breakfast, I’m hungry for her.
Fucking starving.
Suddenly she looks right at me, her eyes wide.
“Was that me?” she gasps.
“What?”
She touches my back, which I know has to be covered in scratch marks.
“Yeah, that was all you, baby,” I say with a shit-eating grin.
She touches them gingerly. “Does it hurt?”
“Yeah,” I answer, “In the good way. Means I did my job.”
She looks away, blushing. “Guess I got a little carried away there.”
Before I can some up with some witty retort about how multiple orgasms will do that to a person, Cora’s phone, which had been in her purse all night, rings loudly.
“Shit, it’s my agent,” she says, retrieving it from the tiny bag, “And he’s called three times. Can you watch the pan? I’ll be right back.”
“Of course,” I reply as she heads off into the bedroom.
Suddenly, the front door is flung open and I hear my sister Nikki shout, “Ian! Get your ass out of bed - God! Ian!”
She covers her eyes.
“Do you ever knock?” I shout back at her as I retreat to the bedroom for clothes.
As I pull on a clean pair of jeans, I realize that I’ve just barged in on a very pissed off Cora.
“When the hell were you going to tell me about this?” she seethes.
“That’s just my sister,” I reassure her, “I’ll get rid of her.”
“Not that,” she says, her eyes narrowing, “The video. The one my agent was calling me about. It’s your video.”
“Yeah.”
“You knew about this.”
“Yes, and I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” I say.
“I gave you that whole speech the other night about how I wanted to do more than just be a pretty face, meanwhile I find out that the first real, paying gig I ever get, I only got because you wanted to sleep with me,” she replies.
“It’s not like that.”
“The hell is isn’t,” she hisses. “You guys even took me without an audition. How is it possibly not like that?”
“I swear,” I try to reassure her, “Our manager picked you. Technically. And we took you without an audition because we needed somebody quick after our original model bailed. The fact that we happened to know each other is a complete coincidence.”
I can tell she’s not convinced.
“Well, what are you going to do?” I ask bluntly, “Turn down the job?”
“No,” she spits out, “I just… ugh, and now I have to turn up at the shoot today and I’ve already slept with… well, I guess you’re technica
lly my boss, right?”
“Kind of,” I say.
“Great, now I’m that girl who fucked her way into a job.”
“Cora, you didn't fuck your way into anything. Our manager picked you. Fair and square. The fact that we have a history is a complete coincidence. The fact that I happened to walk into the Caspiar Club and find you working there is also a coincidence,” I continue, “And the fact that you ended up in my bed and we fucked each other senseless, well, that may be the best goddamn thing that’s ever happened to me.”
She looks back at me, dumbstruck.
“Now, please let me send my sister on her way and we’ll have breakfast naked or something.”
She thinks about it. “Okay.”
I head back into the kitchen where Nikki is waiting, not so patiently, for me.
“Can this wait,” I ask, annoyed, “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
“In the middle of someone,” she corrects.
“Whatever. Make it quick.”
“Hello! We were supposed to have brunch today before shooting the bar scene with the model.”
“I’m sorry. I forgot,” I apologize. “Can we reschedule? Cora and I were making…”
Suddenly, we hear the ear-piercing beep beep beep of the smoke alarm.
I quickly turn off the burner, throw the smoking pan into the sink and start the cold water. There, crisis averted.
Breakfast, however, is ruined.
Cora rushes from the bedroom to the kitchen, still dressed only in my tee shirt.
“What the hell… Oh, hi,” she says, spotting Nikki. Her face goes scarlet as she extends her hand. “I’m Cora. Nice seeing you again. Though this wasn’t how I imagined it happening.”
“No worries,” Nikki replies, shaking her hand. “I’ve seen worse.
Cora looks at me knowingly. I scowl at my sister.
“That’s not what I meant,” Nikki says, correcting herself quickly. “Well, actually it is, well, it was. Actually, I haven’t seen any girls around for quite awhile. Not since…”
“Nikki…” I cut her off.
“Since what?” Cora asks.
“Depressing story,” I tell her, “Another time, I promise.”
Cora nods.
“Anyway,” Nikki starts, “We were supposed to meet for brunch.”
“Oh,” Cora starts, “Umm… I guess I should go then. I’ll just get my stuff and I’ll leave you to it then.” She turns towards the bedroom.
“Do you want to come?” I blurt out.
Brunch with Nikki is usually just the two of us. Family time. But I’m not ready to say goodbye to Cora just yet.
My sister glares at me. Really?
My eyes widen and I silently beg her not to send Cora away.
“We’d love to have you,” Nikki finally adds, “But no pressure.”
“Um, I’d love to,” Cora replies, “Just let me get dressed.”
She heads into the bedroom.
Nikki looks at me. “Up top,” she says, approvingly, and goes for a high-five.
I laugh. Nikki is kind of hilarious when she tries to be one of the guys.
“It’s okay that I invited her, right?” I say.
“I guess so. Hope she’s not sick of you already.”
“Me too. I kind of want to keep her around.”
“For more than a few hours?” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Never thought I’d see the day.” She shakes her head in mock disbelief. “She must be pretty fucking special.”
10
Ian
Cora decides to arrive at the shooting location on her own.
I respect her need for distance, even though I’m pretty sure the band knows I took her home last night. But, for the sake of our looking professional in front of the director and crew, we’re pretending last night didn’t happen.
When Cora arrives, she’s immediately whisked off to hair and makeup.
The director is a woman in her late 40s named Jasmine. She’s pretty cool and we’ve worked with her before. Today, however, she is a ball of stress. The original model’s departure threw everyone off and this morning, we found out that we only have the bar location we’re shooting in for six hours.
Jasmine directs me to hair and makeup and sends Nikki to a sofa in the corner of the room to hang out. As I turn to leave, she stops me.
“She’s the model?” Jasmine asks, pointing at Cora.
I nod.
“What’s she done? Runway? Print?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, “She’s an actress mainly.”
Jasmine rolls her eyes.
“Hey, she’s a friend,” I tell her, “Be nice.”
“A friend?”
“Yes,” I answer, not offering up more details.
Jasmine studies Cora from across the room. “She’s kind of perfect. Girl-next-door at first glance, but the more you look at her, the clearer it is that she’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.”
That’s about right. “Don’t get any ideas.”
Jasmine laughs, “I’m a one woman gal, Ian."
She shows me a picture of her wife and their daughter on her phone. They’re adorable.
Jasmine looks at me like she knows something she shouldn’t. “So, Cora’s okay doing a love scene with Dylan?”
“She knows what she’s in for.”
“How do you feel about it?” Jasmine asks with a wink.
“Huh?”
“Come on, you’ve been staring at her like kids stare at Christmas presents. Or the way my ex stared at herself in the mirror.”
“Oh. That obvious?” I ask, feeling the corner of my mouth turn upward.
“You’ve got it bad, huh?” she teases.
I smile. Busted.
I look over just in time to see Dylan introduce himself to Cora. He says something that makes her laugh. Like, genuinely laugh.
“They look good together,” Jasmine says, “On camera, I mean.”
I feel myself scowling. Dylan’s plenty charming. We all know that this song is about the one girl that got away, but Dylan hasn’t exactly been celibate as he processed his feelings for her. I’ve seen him in action and he’s plenty charming. I know Cora’s different than most women, but, still, part of me wants to go over there and kiss her stupid. It’s a stupid, manly pride thing, but I want to let the world know that she’s mine.
But I know that would make me look jealous and Cora look unprofessional.
Plus, she isn't exactly mine, I remind myself.
Jasmine senses my distress. “Relax, the scene’s pretty tame.”
I don’t know what to say. I know that we haven’t discussed dating or a relationship.
Or even hooking up again.
But, call it a gut feeling, something special happened last night and I know that Cora and I aren’t done with each other yet.
11
Cora
I’m in hair and makeup, wearing a black tank top and designer jeans, playing the cute, but tough-as-nails bartender in a music video.
Dylan Cotter introduces himself. He’s ridiculously hot - blonde hair, muscular build, right arm covered in thick, black tattoos, intense big blue eyes.
And he’s lucky he’s hot because he’s cocky as hell. And incredibly bossy.
“Don’t get me wrong, you’re totally beautiful,” he tells me, “But is there any way we can give her some ink. Or some streaks in her hair. This girl, er… this character isn’t so clean-cut.”
It’s obvious that this song is about a very specific woman.
Jasmine and her crew are incredibly professional and efficient. And are willing to cede to a demanding rock star. We get the majority of the shots done in the mere few hours allotted and I, thankfully, can still get to my shift at the club on time.
“Thanks, Cora,” Jasmine says, “You’re a doll to work with.”
She shows me some of the footage. Dylan and I look pretty at ease with each other in the scenes.
“We�
��ll cut you a check for today and you can pick it up tomorrow.”
“A check?”
“Yes, sweetheart,” she says, surprised. “When people work, they generally get paid. That’s kind of the basis of our economy.”
“Sorry,” I say. Could you be more of a dork, Cora? “This is my first paying gig.”
“You don’t say,” Jasmine says, knowingly.
I grab my bag. She continues to watch the playback on her laptop. Something catches her eye.
“Or should I just give the check to your boyfriend to hand off to you?” she asks, clearly implying something.
“What?” How much does she know? “I don’t have a…”
Ian and I didn’t discuss anything more than our one-night-stand. And, hell, I thought we were doing a pretty good job of keeping it professional on the set.
She plays me a clip of video where Dylan and I are flirting and Ian is visible in the background. The expression on his face is pure jealousy. He’s staring daggers at his bandmate. It’s clear as day.
“Ian’s a good guy. Fuck it, they’re all good guys. Cocksure and totally ridiculous sometimes, but good. I’ve known them for awhile now. I know Ian’s made some mistakes, but after all he’s been through this last year…”
“What? What happened?” I ask.
“He didn’t tell you about the accident?”
I shake my head no.
“Forgive me,” Jasmine says, “It’s not my place to tell his story.”
I understand. But I’m dying to know more.
Her eyes go back to the screen to a shot of me wiping down the bar top, watching Dylan walk away.
“The camera loves you,” she says. “Keep your phone on, the calls are going to start pouring in.
I smile ear to ear.
My shift at the club just will… not… end. Thankfully, Aya is working tonight also and I have somebody to gush to. I tell her all about the video and my interaction with Jasmine and the band and how she’s going to see my face on TV soon.
Oh, yeah, and about rolling around in bed with Ian and the two earth-shattering orgasms.
I’m thankful when Dan finally sends me on my break. I fish my phone out of my locker and check for messages.
