by Sabrina York
“Why didn’t you?”
She shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe I wanted to see how far it would go.”
“It went pretty far.”
“Pretty fast.”
His heart thudded. Once. Twice. “Is that why you left?”
She hid her beautiful eyes beneath lush lashes. “Aren’t sluts supposed to slink out in the night?”
Fury rushed through him like a wildfire. “You’re not a slut.”
“How do you know that?” She glanced at him and her expression sliced him to the core. “I went home with you. Trotted right along. Fucked you silly. Doesn’t that make me a slut?”
Oh yeah. She had fucked him silly.
But he couldn’t think about that right now. He had to focus on her words. Words that befuddled him. Hell. The pain limning her expression devastated him. His mouth worked for a moment, waiting for his brain to catch up, searching for the right thing to say to wipe that look away. “You’re a kindergarten teacher, for Christ’s sake.”
She humphed. “I’ll have you know, kindergarten teachers can be many things besides kindergarten teachers.”
“You’re Penny’s friend.” He cupped her cheek, thumbed her delectable lips. “She assured me you’re one of the good ones.”
“Even Penny doesn’t know where I spend my nights.”
Something hardened in his gut. He swallowed around the tight ball in his throat. “Okay. So tell me. Where do you spend your nights?”
She gave a little grunt, something irreverent and endearing. “At home, mostly.”
“Not in strange men’s bedrooms?”
“Are you saying you’re strange?”
“Be serious, Jessica. I’m asking. I want to know.”
She sobered. Flicked at the label on her beer. “All right. No. I’ve never had a one-night stand before…before last night.”
Relief washed through him. He let go a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Me either.”
“Seriously?” Her questing gaze met his. A crackle of energy passed through his soul.
“Seriously.”
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
He took a long draw on his beer in an attempt to delay the inevitable. Didn’t work. She stared at him in silence. Patiently waiting for his response. He shrugged. “I’ve been on blind dates before…”
She snorted. “Penny does have a penchant for setting people up.”
“Yeah. She does. But they’re all so, I dunno, stodgy.”
“Small talk.” She nodded. “I hate that shit.”
“Me too. And when I saw you sitting there last night in that short skirt with your hair all wild and sexy, God, I didn’t want small talk. I wanted hot whispers.”
Her lips parted. Her tongue peeped out then disappeared again. The tension between them ratcheted up just a notch. A fist clenched in his gut as the mood abruptly shifted.
“But I’m a schoolteacher,” she said in a little girl voice. “Schoolteachers aren’t hot.”
Despite the lust snarling through him, he couldn’t resist a survey of her outfit and the quip, “Not dressed like that, they’re not.”
She skewered him with her whispered response. “What if they’re not wearing anything?”
He was hard as a rock in a millisecond. He tried to form a response. But he couldn’t. Her hand, resting on his thigh, twitched.
“Would you like me to show you how hot a schoolteacher can be? Would you like that, Justin?” Her breath was warm and moist in his ear.
“Oh yes.”
“Ah ah ah.” She waggled a finger. “Say please.”
“Oh, please.”
Yeah. He had no shame. She was sitting there seducing him with her voice alone. Her caress on his thigh—so close, but no cigar—had him drooling. He would beg. He’d get down on his knees and grovel if she wanted him to.
She leaned closer. Her breast brushed against his arm. He could swear he felt her nipple. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”
“Have you?” Really? Did his voice have to crack?
“Yes. Do you want to know what I’ve been thinking about? All day? In the classroom?”
“What?” He jumped as her thumb made a foray over his tight balls. He had to remind himself not to lean her back on the banquette and fuck her right here in the bar.
“I’ve been thinking about sucking your cock.”
He moaned. That’s it. Just moaned. He was incapable of anything more because her words stole his sanity and replaced it with delirious visions of her mouth stretched around the head of his cock. And better yet, his cock sliding deep into her throat. His cock erupting in her mouth and her sucking every drop.
She licked her lips. His pulse roared; he fought back the nearly overwhelming urge to come.
“Dear God, Jessica. We have to go.”
“I haven’t finished my beer.”
“Please. We have to go now.” He wanted to be alone with her. And he wanted it now. Needed it.
She must have sensed it, tasted it, realized the depth of his desperation because she nodded and collected her teeth from the table.
“You won’t be needing those,” he informed her.
She responded with a sly grin. “You never know, buster,” she said and slipped them back in.
It was then he realized that perhaps he might be falling for her, and falling hard.
And it didn’t even scare the shit out of him.
Chapter Four
The door to his apartment was barely closed when she fell to her knees before him in the foyer and started fumbling with the snaps on his jeans.
“Jessica!” He grabbed her hands, halting her onslaught. “Sweetheart, we need to get you out of that outfit first.” Seriously. It was kind of killing the mood.
She yanked out of his hold, released his cock and looked up at him with a triumphant grin.
Oh. Thank God. She’d removed the teeth.
“You forget, Mr. Sweetwater. I am a man-hungry schoolmarm.” She ogled his rod. “And I am hungry for man meat.”
She took him in her mouth then and sucked. And…dear God. He collapsed against the door and let her have her way with him because, damn, the girl had talent. She ran her tongue over his supersensitive head and suckled at the little eye. The sensation of her tongue nudging at it made his knees weak.
He couldn’t help fisting her hair but she wouldn’t allow him to direct her. This was her banquet and she was managing the feast.
And feast she did. Her mouth was hot and wet and tight as she wedged his length between her lips. She sucked him in, all the way in, and then sucked some more until the tightness, the tension became unbearable.
Somehow he managed to bear it.
When her fingers joined the action, he nearly cried out loud. She stroked his most sensitive places, his ass, his balls, the tender spot between them, all as she drew his cock into her mouth again and again.
Heat scudded through him, tightening the muscles of his belly, his chest, his thighs, until he strained, quivering before her. He fought against release because the torment of denial was so incredibly sweet. But Jessica was relentless, her mouth a velvet cavern welcoming him and nursing him and nuzzling him.
When a slender digit danced closer to his ass, he knew he was a goner, and sure enough, as she eased it in, wiggling it a little just to make him moan, he came.
Cum rushed from him in a hot stream, followed by another and another aching, anguished jet. She took it all. Took it all and swallowed it, milking him. Her satisfied moans urged even more of him.
When he was finished, he slipped down the wall to the floor and pulled her into his arms.
Goddamn, she was good.
He wondered if he’d ever recover.
Something told him he wouldn’t.
While he recuperated, they lounged on the big leather sofa, eating hot-fudge sundaes and watching a show about crazy pageant moms. She curled up in his arms. He loved the warmth, the weight of
her against his chest.
It wasn’t long before his desire stirred again.
But she was wearing that outfit.
Slowly, surreptitiously, he began sliding the pencils from her hair. Really. It was a wonder she hadn’t punctured him with one of them earlier. They fell noiselessly onto the carpet. Then he released her hair from that hideous bun. It took awhile because she’d been serious about keeping it in place. In the end, she had to take over because he lost all patience with the countless pins. The schoolmarm blouse came next. It had way too many buttons. And once that was off, he stared at her and laughed.
Beneath the thick, ungainly material, she wore an old-fashioned corset. Not a hot old-fashioned corset, like with satin and ribbons and lace. This was an ugly creation designed to torment women and irritate men.
He became frustrated with all the snaps and hooks and tried to rip it from her body but it was far too sturdy for that. Yeah. She had to take care of that monstrosity as well.
The prairie skirt was pretty easy to dispense with. He laughed when he saw the bloomers she wore beneath.
“Seriously, Jess, where did you get these clothes?”
She grinned. “It’s amazing what you can find in the thrift store.”
He knelt before her and tugged the bloomers off. “Did you have to go back in time?”
“Just a little bit.”
And then all conversation about her sartorial style halted. Because she was naked. And her hair was flowing and free. And her teeth were normal size. And…she was exquisite.
Still on his knees, he took a moment and buried his head in her lap, just enjoying the feel of her in his arms.
But she was restless. And demanding. And petulant. She plucked at his shirt. “Off.”
He complied, removing the offending garment and tossing it heedlessly across the room. He stared up at her. “You haven’t come yet.”
“Is that a complaint or a promise?”
“Both.” He insinuated himself between her legs and took her nipple in his mouth. It was hard and fat and when he licked it, she squirmed, rubbing her belly against his cock. He liked the way that felt so he did it again. At the same time, he drew designs on her bare hip. That made her wiggle and sigh as well.
He made his way to the other breast and tormented her there for a while then licked and sucked and nipped his way down her abdomen to her creamy belly. It quivered when he kissed her there, quivered and clenched. She thrust her hips at him and he caught her gaze.
“What do you want, Jess?”
“Justin!”
“Tell me. I want to hear it.”
“Lick my pussy.” She spread her legs wider.
He pressed on her mound with the heel of his hand. Circled. She moaned. “That’s not a very polite way to ask.”
She put out a lip. “Are you going to make me beg?”
He couldn’t hold back his grin. He circled again. “Oh yes.” He stroked her pussy with his thumb. “Come on, Jess. You know you want it.”
Her breathing devolved to little pants. She twitched and she tried to press against him. Mercilessly, he teased her. “‘Please’,” he prompted. “It’s just a little word.”
He found her clit, that tight little nub, soaked in her juices and he nearly lost his resolve. Somehow he managed to restrain himself. He wanted to taste her, eat her, make her tremble and moan, but he wanted that one little word more.
Finally, she broke. “Please! Please!”
He separated her folds with two thumbs and lapped at her, just lapped, a soft, slick swipe and she came. Cried out and shivered and shook.
He did not relent. He did not give her time to revel in the rapture. He buried his face, his mouth, in her cunt and feasted. He licked her clit and flicked it, he lapped at her, sucked that swollen flesh into his mouth. Dipped deeper, nudging her with his nose and filling her cunt with his tongue.
She tasted like ambrosia. Her cream was thick and slick. Her cunt was awash in it. His fingers slipped in easily and filled her. She growled and panted and clutched at his hair. He brought her to bliss again and again until her voice was hoarse.
He would have kept going if her naughty little toe hadn’t found the turgid length of his cock. That and the sultry look in her eyes reminded him there were greater pleasures to be had.
He pulled her up off the couch and arranged her over the coffee table, taking great delight in the sight of her ass, her cunt, displayed for his review. Impatient, she wiggled her butt and glanced over her shoulder at him.
“Come on, Justin,” she whispered. “Please.”
His mouth went dry. His cock and balls tightened and twitched. “What do you want, Jess?” he rasped.
“Please fuck me—”
He was in her before she finished her plea. In her and deep and God, it was good. He pulled out and thrust in again, fixated on the delicious way her cunt sucked at his cock as he withdrew, and quivered around him when he sank back in. She was so tight, so wet. Her internal muscles were incredible, tugging at him, massaging him, setting up a resonance that shook them both.
“Harder.”
“Yeah. You like it hard, don’t you?”
“Yes. Please. Harder. Ah! Ah! Ah!” She grunted with each thrust and her grunts, her groans, became louder, more frantic as he increased his pace.
He could swear he felt her womb, her core, when he shoved in deep like that. And he wanted that. He wanted to come on the mouth of her womb, drench her with his seed and mark her as his own.
Something feral and desperate rose within him. He desired her, yes, but he wanted more than that. He wanted…everything.
He held her down, held her in place, dominating her, fucking her, taking her. His cock was like a piston, sluicing in and out of her at a manic pace. Her cries rose, her orgasm crested. He could feel it in her cunt, the rising tension, the heat, the dribbling evidence of her passion as it lubricated his path.
When she came, when the bliss took her, she tightened around him with a blinding intensity. The exquisitely tight caress of her cunt milked him.
And a burst of fireworks exploded in him as his cum surged forth, desperate, burning for release. He shook, he lurched, he spasmed in spurt after spurt after blissful spurt. Together they flew, soared, drowned in ecstasy.
* * * * *
Jessica had no idea how she ended up in his bed. The aftermath of that last orgasm—bent over the coffee table as he pounded into her—had stolen her sanity. But here she was, cuddled around him, deep in his blankets. Warmth suffused her.
His fingers drifted up and down her back. His breathing was steady and punctuated with little grunting moans.
“That was amazing,” he murmured into her hair. He kissed her brow.
“It was.” She nestled deeper. “What do you think of schoolteachers now?”
His chuckle reverberated through her. “Pretty damn hot.”
She peeped up at him. “Even kindergarten teachers?”
“Especially those.”
“Well,” she sighed. “I guess my work here is done.” She made to leave the bed but he grabbed her arm and yanked her back.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“I’m not?”
“No. I may have need of you later.”
She laughed and drew little lemniscates on his broad chest. His skin was like warm velvet. “I don’t see how.”
“What?”
“I don’t see how you could need me later. I drained you dry.”
“I’ll refill. Trust me. Besides,” he tightened his arms, “I want you to stay.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
She dropped her head back onto his chest, nibbling at her smile. “I’ll think about it.”
“You do that, missy. You just do that.”
She did.
Chapter Five
He woke her in the night with a soft caress, a whisper. She came to consciousness aroused and ready and he didn’t make her wait. Without a word,
he levered over her and spread her legs with his knees and slipped in.
She groaned at the sensation, the delicious fullness, the familiarity of his touch, his cock. She wrapped her legs around his waist and moved with him, drawing him in, attempting to hold him there.
Before long, his thrusts became short and hard. He nestled his nose in the crook of her neck, laving and nipping until she quaked. He continued to feast on her there as he moved inside her, faster and faster, at an ever more frantic pace. And then he swelled. His cock, already tight inside her, became deliriously so and she came again, clasping him, squeezing him, milking him.
His cum was hot. It jetted into her in sizzling streams. The feel of it set her off yet again. And even after he pulled out, even after he drew her against him and sighed, she continued to quake with delight. She fell asleep before the bliss receded. Fell asleep in his arms.
* * * * *
When she roused again it was to the smell of bacon, which was, all things considered, the best smell in the world. It took her a moment to work out where she was—her brain was awfully fuzzy and she was in the grip of a dream she just didn’t want to release. When she realized she was still here, in Justin’s bed, a shudder skated through her. Okay. Through her cunt.
Somehow she’d come to equate him, this bed, with exquisite pleasure.
She found a robe on a hook in his bathroom and wrapped it around herself before padding into the living room. She stopped and stared at the sight of him in the kitchen. Frying up bacon. Wearing an apron.
And she realized she was in trouble. Feelings like this weren’t normal. Not after two dates.
You could call them dates, right?
He just looked so adorable. So domesticated.
It was horrifying.
He glanced up and shot her a grin. Twin shards of lust and bone-deep fear slashed through her. How could a man look that amazing in the morning? After keeping her up all night?
“Hey, babe. Want some coffee?” He didn’t wait for her response. He poured her a cup in a Rangers mug and brought it to her. He kissed her. A light “well, good morning, you” buss.
But it was wonderful. His scent, his warmth, the taste of him, suffused her and brought back all the memories of the night before. And the night before that. And all the sad empty nights he hadn’t been part of.
