by Ivana Shaft
“As you saw, I barely got to the unit in time, and even though the unit had nothing of particular monetary value, some pigheaded chick decided she wanted it. I figured I could just sweet talk her into giving me what I wanted, but she wasn’t having it. She pissed me off, so I figured I’d get it the hard way, and in the meantime, kill two birds with one stone; after all, that annoying girl was hot, and I suddenly found myself wanting more than just storage unit contents from her. Anyway, the rest, as they say, is history.”
He kisses me on the forehead.
I am unable to say anything until I feel him start to move.
“Wait, where are you going?” I ask.
“My work here is done,” he says. “I’ll arrange to take what I need off your hands, but we can’t do much until daytime.”
“No, no, no—I demand compensation for the contents of that unit since you’re taking the most valuable things away from me.”
He relaxes a little.
“Shoot,” he says, and I am relieved he has decided to indulge me.
“First of all, I demand you stay here overnight. I suspect in an hour two there’ll be an itch I need you to scratch.”
I know he’s smiling, because I can see his ridiculously white teeth.
“Just say you’re not ready for me to go yet.”
“Don’t be silly,” I say, and he chuckles.
He lies back down next to me.
“I wasn’t really ready to go either; in fact, I probably owe you a full body massage for keeping you in that uncomfortable position for so long.”
“Yeah, well, I was about to say that too: that I will also accept a full body massage—with oils—as a form of payment. We can take a shower together and soap each other off, then you can get right to it. Whatever happens afterward, happens.”
“Is that all, Miss Kira?”
“No,” I say. “How did you come up with this plan? How did you find me?”
“Well, it was easy to grab your full name from the auction roster, and even easier from there considering all the traces of you on the net—LinkedIn, Facebook, etc. Plus, I have a lot of friends in high places—IT, PIs…”
“But they couldn’t help you save a storage unit?”
“Look, I got a late notice about the whole thing, and I was underprepared with cash on hand; I just didn’t know in time. Ultimately, I figured pretty much everyone would pass on such a boring-looking unit, and I sure as hell didn’t expect someone to bid as much as you did on it. I didn’t take the time to call in favors today—I figured I could handle things myself. And so I did. I broke in here long before you arrived and simply hid out and waited for you to go to sleep. Now, what else can I do for you, Miss Fuller?”
All I can do is smile.
“Feel free to invade my home any night,” I say in a voice much softer and warmer than I intended, but I am just so grateful to him.
Besides ending my drought and giving me mind-blowing sex, plus all the other feels he gave me today, thank you, Señor BigCock, for helping me cross another thing off my bucket list—two things actually.
Who knew hot sex with a gorgeous stranger would be conquered so quickly? And sex with handcuffs?
I couldn’t have staged better circumstances—or a better candidate—myself.
END
* * *
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Anita Swirl writes steamy BWWM tales. Her erotic shorts usually involve strangers quickly getting to know each other a lot better!
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Taken for Granted
Rowena
SYNOPSIS
Avery’s fiancé drains their financial resources, leaving them broke and depending on Chad, her fiancé’s hot best friend. They have to find a way to pay strong, muscular Chad back for letting them stay in his condo until they get back on their feet, and Chad has a couple of naughty ideas how!
Copyright © 2014, Rowena Risqué
Sneak Peek
Avery
…How did I end up in this strange room at night, trying to ignore the large, muscular figure nearby?
I groan and switch positions, putting the pillow over my head.
Then I consider putting the pillow between my legs and rubbing against it to get some relief for my aching pussy, but I hear the shower turn off.
I put the pillow back under my head and hold still, listening for Chad’s next move with my eyes shut tight.
Suddenly, I get the overwhelming feeling that he’s standing at my door, staring at me in the darkness.
Everything in me is coiled while I try to look relaxed in sleep, waiting to see what his next move will be.
I open my eyes a little and can only see his silhouette, but there’s no doubt he’s staring in my direction.
What’s he thinking?
I notice he is completely naked. He must’ve toweled off in the bathroom and left the towel there.
“Avery,” he says softly, and I almost answer, but I bite back a reply, making sure not to budge.
“Avery, I know you’re awake.”
I squeeze my eyes as if it’ll block the whole of him out and enclose me in some safe bubble.
“Avery, if you don’t sit up right now, you’ll awake to find yourself chained to my bed.”
I spring up like a rat trap. “What is it, Chad?”
A few seconds pass before he answers, and when he does, his voice seems pulled tight. “I need you,” he says huskily.
“I don’t know what that means,” I try to say, but my voice is trapped in my throat.
Plus, I pretty much know exactly what he means, the way he said the words so heavily laden with desire.
“W-what are you talking about, Chad?” I finally manage to ask.
“You heard me, and I know you know why I’m here. Remember how I said you guys can stay here for free?” he continues. “Well, I lied. I do require payment, and I’m here for the first installment…
1
Avery
I’m hoping I don’t wake Kevin as I lie next to him, thinking about his best friend.
Kevin and I haven’t had sex recently because I’ve been pretty mad at him, and that means I’m left with a yearning between my legs.
Instead of just letting Kevin handle it, I’ve been stealing moments to fantasize about someone else filling me with his hard cock, and that ‘someone else’ invariably ends up being his friend, Chad.
I can’t help it—Chad is ridiculously hot.
He’s handsome, muscular, and disciplined due to his military training, and I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have him on top of me, pumping his dick in and out of me.
Kevin and I are back to back, and he’s snoring lightly, so I think it’s safe to slide my hand under my panties, my fingers quickly reaching the lips of my neglected pussy.
I conjure up a fantasy—that it’s Chad lying next to me instead, and that he suddenly turns so that his erection is pressing against me.
Then he rolls me onto my back as he climbs over me, brings his lips to my neck while parting my legs and resting his hard body between them.
He nibbles my sensitive skin while sliding his hand over my pajama tank top to fondle my breasts, my nipples quickly hardening, my pussy getting wetter.
Chad is, of course, completely naked, and my panties have suddenly disappeared, so I’m ready for him as he looks intently into my eyes, his intention clear.
“I’ve always want to do this,” he says as he teases the tingling lips between my legs with the smooth tip of his hard cock.
He continues nibbli
ng my neck, making me squirm some more, and then he suddenly slides down and his mouth grips my pussy, making me buck and cry out.
He sucks and licks me until I’m a writhing, whimpering mess, and then he climbs back over my needy body and places the head of his penis at my slick opening.
He shoves his cock all the way inside me then starts thrusting rhythmically, working my grateful core.
I finger myself to this fantasy, hoping the slight movements don’t make Kevin stir, and thankfully, it’s not long before I come with a finger inside me while Chad’s still fucking me in my fantasy.
My body relaxes into the bed, my heart pounding, while I think about my current relationship.
I’m not satisfied in so many ways; something’s got to give.
But for now, my body has calmed down a bit, and I finally start drifting off to sleep.
I try not to glare at Kevin as we stuff the last item into my car.
Moving is usually a pain in the ass, but it’s even worse under the fog of humiliation from having lost our apartment and becoming essentially homeless.
Thank goodness my idiot fiancé has a friend who not only has a spare bedroom in his condo but extra space in some storage facility where we can leave some of our stuff until we get back on our feet again.
I already knew I’d be the one handling our finances when Kevin and I get married, but stupid me let Kevin talk me into already starting a joint savings account, and Kevin lost most of our money gambling.
We are pretty much down to zero, and couldn’t ignore that eviction notice anymore.
All we have left are our cars, and I am definitely not selling mine—I need to get to work; unlike Kevin, who lost his job a few months ago, and who hasn’t been able to find a new one since.
I’m usually smarter than this—Kevin just wasn’t like this when I met him; he seemed like he had it together. He took me out to fairly expensive dinners, bought me gifts for various occasions, stuff like that. Even after we’d been together for a while, I had no clue that after all these years of being an adult, Kevin never managed to save any money at all from those high-paying jobs he used to talk about having.
Plus, my ring isn’t from some cereal box either—it’s worth five-figures (and no, I’m definitely not pawning it). So what the hell happened, you ask?
Well, Kevin kept up his charade for a while, we eventually moved in together, and he convinced me that we could afford the rent in this spacious place we got—double the cost of what I was paying on my own, but I figured, well, there are two of us, right?
Little did I know, he was living month to month at the time, had a bit of a gambling problem, and was driving without insurance, which, after a freak accident, had us paying thousands of dollars in out-of-pocket expenses.
The way we live, it just wasn’t possible anymore for me to sustain the two of us on my income alone—I’m an independent contractor, and even though I manage to keep myself busy, the strain is just too big—what I bring in can no longer cover everything.
And as I said, whatever I had managed to save that could have covered us for at least one more month, buying valuable job search time for Kevin, he threw down the drain.
Kevin told me he was feeling desperate and inadequate, and he wanted to do something. He thought he was so great at online poker, and he was sure he’d double his ‘investment.’
Yeah, that worked out.
This whole thing is particularly stressful for me because I’m pretty far away from home, unlike Kevin, who is from this state.
I grew up in the Midwest, whereas, in about two hours of driving time, we will have moved from where we settled in L.A. to San Diego County, where Kevin grew up and most of his family and friends still live.
Of course, there was no way we were going to move in with any of his family—hell no, I’m not even going to get into that.
I’m just glad his friend, Chad, is somewhat well-off, and they’ve been best friends since elementary school, so now here we are, about to head to Chad’s.
I’m not as embarrassed about this whole thing when it comes to Chad—he understands as a young, single guy who has had his own share of problems—situations Kevin claims he had to bail Chad out of—so there won’t be much judgment on his part.
Chad may or may not owe him as he claims; either way, shit happens, and they’ve had a long friendship.
Besides, I sort of know Chad outside of familiarity with his great looks—I’ve had to hang out with him a few times over the course of my relationship with Kevin; Chad seems like a decent dude.
Chad even offered to lend us rent money for the next few months, but I was like, hell f-ing no.
I feel like it would just enable Kevin, and we’d be in the same situation a few months down the road—Kevin with no job and no extra money to save up while fighting to keep up with the rent.
And, of course, one more debt added to our list—to Chad.
Kevin suggested we move to a cheaper place so we wouldn’t have to take as much loan money from Chad, but again, hell no. Sorry—in L.A., I’m sort of picky about where and how I live.
When I lived by myself, I had a comfy little place in a comfy little location for under eight hundred a month—no roommates, one bedroom, one bath.
I absolutely cannot imagine having to downgrade the square footage and/or location, and be stuck in some area I hate, and/or in a tiny-ass place without the usual amenities with Kevin, the stench of his weed filling the whole room.
No way, José.
Yes, I know we’ll still be confined to a smaller space since we’re sharing with Chad now, but that compromise, along with moving two hours away from L.A., is nothing when you consider that Chad isn’t letting us pay a cent in rent.
That deal isn’t on Craigslist, I can tell you that—at least, not without coming with some other terms, if you get my drift.
Anyway, with me still doing my promo gigs, Kevin and I should gather enough money to move back into a nice, respectable place in a few months or so, and if Kevin manages to finally get some work, in even less time.
I’m so glad for this chance to start over and get it together, and I have no idea how we’ll repay Chad for giving us this opportunity.
When we get to Chad’s place, he comes out to meet us, and I am struck dumb immediately.
Chad has pants on, but he is completely shirtless, and his body is built like a god’s.
I stare, and I know I’m staring, but I can’t help it; I’ve never seen him without his shirt before, and while I knew he had a strong, fit body underneath his clothes as a former Army Ranger, I was not prepared to see the actual muscles bulging from his arms, his tight, wide chest and the rippling muscles of his stomach.
I’m fairly certain I’m about to drool when Chad suddenly winks at me, which Kevin doesn’t see as he is reaching into the car to start pulling stuff out.
Odd way to say hello, I think, but Chad’s sexy wink effectively breaks my trance, and I’m able to function again.
“Don’t worry about the rest, Avery,” Chad says to me. “Let us guys handle it.”
“No, I’ll take some light stuff in,” I say stubbornly, and grab my backpack first.
We only planned to move in our clothes, shoes, and other basics like toiletries, a few books, and, of course, my hair products—I have thick, long curly hair and I can’t play around with not having those.
Once we’ve taken in the necessities and confirm we need nothing else, the boys will take our other unnecessary stuff to storage, which will probably be pretty soon.
As I drop my backpack in our new bedroom, my face is still hot—I’m definitely still bothered by the sight of Chad’s muscular upper torso and that amazingly evocative badass tattoo covering the sinews of his back that I got a load of.
I feel like that shirtless image of him is going to haunt me, and I wonder how I’m supposed to function properly with Chad’s beautiful masculinity so near.
Don’t get me wrong, Kevin isn’t ug
ly or anything—obviously, I was attracted to him enough to date him, and then stay with him; I plan to marry him, for Christ’s sake.
But there’s one thing that’s usually not a conscious factor that certainly is now: Kevin in no way compares to Chad’s superior physicality.
Kevin is one inch shorter than me—not that that’s a big deal—I dated a guy in high school who was also shorter, although he happened to be stocky and athletic and muscular, so it wasn’t a real issue.
Kevin, however, also happens to be rather slim—almost thin.
I used to dance and ran track in the somewhat distant past, so my body is more on the athletic side. I have solid, toned legs, for example. But Kevin’s legs are thinner than mine and his arms are probably the same size as mine. Hell, we might even weigh the same, ultimately.
But Chad—good Lord. He is definitely taller than me—I never really logged how much so, but now I’d guess six foot two—and he is, no doubt, wider than me. Those broad, golden shoulders, that firm expanse of chest, those bulging arms, lightly dusted with hair and lined with muscle and blood vessels, sure do make me feel like a woman.
Even his green eyes looked different when he winked at me like he had some juicy secret.
I’m still hiding out, fanning myself, my heart pounding hard.
I don’t know the last time I found myself needing to catch my breath like this.
I can’t remember when last I felt so exposed, having to avert my eyes to hide the look of appreciation in them, so weakened in the face of such stunning, unapologetic maleness.
