by Lila Younger
“Hey, I’m trying to get some work done here,” I say, trying to swat him away as he nibbles gently on my neck. Despite my words, I tilt my head to let him kiss that little hollow that always feels so damn good.
“That can wait,” he murmurs.
His fingers plunge deeper into my pussy, sending a sudden burst of pleasure through me. His expert fingers hook onto my inside wall, pressing right up against the bundle of nerves that can liquefy my legs. I lean against the boxes in front of me, eyes shut as his thumb glides over my clit.
“And-and the groceries?” I say through my pants.
“Can you really wait that long?” he asks, his voice throaty in my ear.
“N-No,” I say.
“Didn’t think so.”
I feel his lips smile against my skin. His other hand slides up to massage my breast, drawing my nipples into tight points. My body hums, pressure coiling in my stomach as Ian works his fingers over my pussy, my clit. Each time he thrusts in and brushes up against my g-spot I gasp again, my orgasm rising higher and higher. Just when I think I’m going to come though, he lets go, tugging my jeans and my panties off of me. In one swift motion, he pushes me up against the wall, lifting me up so that when I slide back down, it’s right onto his cock, taking him to the hilt.
I struggle to take a breath as he fills me up all the way. He’s big, really big, the angle perfect for reaching the innermost parts of me. I’m stretched all around him, and when I clench my pussy, I’m rewarded with a groan from Ian’s lips. He begins to thrust, hard and fast, rolling his hips to strike my center. I cling onto him, my hands digging into his shoulders from how good it feels. Every movement has me gasping, my body almost vibrating from pleasure. My legs tighten around him, drawing him into me as he fucks me, every stroke hitting my clit with precision movements until the orgasm rolls over me.
“Oh Ian! Yes, yes!” I cry out.
My back arches off the wall as my breath leaves me, every part of my body rigid and tight as I draw Ian into me one last time. The pleasure is everywhere, stopping time so that there is only the present, only the feel of him and I connected together. My body milks his cock over and over, taking in his come as it fills me up and overflows. Ian holds me up the whole time until I finally catch my breath.
“I love you Kaitlyn,” he says, giving me a light kiss on the lips. “I love watching you come for me.”
“I love you too, but I can’t believe the first thing we do when we move is in have sex in the kitchen,” I say with a shake of my head.
“I’ve got my priorities straight,” Ian says solemnly.
He lifts me up, his cock still inside of me. I think maybe he’s going to put me back down on the floor at some point, but we’re moving now into the dining room.
“Where are you going?” I ask, curious.
“Well, there are still at least five more rooms in the house we haven’t had sex in. Might as well get that out of the way first,” he says. “Can’t concentrate otherwise.”
“Is that so?” I ask.
“That’s so,” he says, giving me a long kiss that spreads heat again through my lower body. “Now it’s time to stop talking, otherwise we’ll never get to dinner.”
*****
Want to get the extended epilogue? Sigh up for my mailing list at http://eepurl.com/cedD7H
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed my book, please leave a review and let me know!
Want to receive become an ARC reader? Apply at http://eepurl.com/ceagmn
Catch my book cover reveals, teasers, and more at www.facebook.com/lilayounger
Other books by Lila Younger
What Her Dad Doesn’t Know
Boss of Me
Her Virgin Secret
I hope you enjoy Chapter One of my book Her Virgin Secret…
The weekend everything changed for the rest of my life was ordinary. I don’t mean ordinary as in I don’t remember it at all, because I do, but ordinary in the sense that everything was predictable, and if you asked me what I’d be doing come Monday morning, I’d say “class probably”, because I didn’t expect anything else. In fact, I can’t even pinpoint the moment it happened, because I was away at my roommate Jen’s beach cottage for spring break. It wasn’t the Jersey Shore in case you were wondering. There was a lot less orange spray tan and a lot more flash cards, since we were all pre-med and there is never enough time to study. My other roommate Lexi still managed to find a guy on the weekend, but she trails men wherever she goes.
Anyway, the point is, when we are coming home Sunday night, all I am really thinking about is whether or not I have the energy to do a load of laundry before bedtime. Lexi, who won the coin toss and got to sit up in the front, is the first to get inside the little house we rent. I’m stuck in between the luggage in the back, waiting for Jen to dig me out. She’s busy replying to a text, not that I’ve been saying I need to go to the bathroom for the past hour or anything. I’m reaching my hands to try and open the back door myself when Lexi comes back out, worry all over her face.
“Hey guys,” she says uncertainly, “did either of you forget to close a tap or something?”
I look at Jen, who is just as confused as I am. She’s finally out of the car and pulling her suitcase onto the ground, so I scramble out, my legs complaining as I finally stretch them out after five hours.
“No. Of course not,” I say. “Why?”
“Because there’s water dripping down the stairs,” Lexi says.
“Dripping?”
“Like, a lot of dripping. Maybe even more than dripping. Flowing maybe?”
Jen takes off for the house and I follow, my leg cramps and full bladder totally forgotten. The two of us rush in the side door, through the kitchen and dining room to the stairs. Lexi’s right. It’s definitely more than a drip. What the hell is going on? I’m the only one of us wearing flip-flops, so I gingerly make my way up the stairs. One thing that I immediately discover: our floors are slanted. Who knew? The way that the upstairs is laid out means that my room and Jen’s have an inch of water already, while Lexi’s is completely dry. Two more steps in and I see the problem. Something busted in the toilet. Immediately I feel grossed out, but there’s nowhere to get my feet out of the water.
“Jen! Call the landlord” I yell down the stairs. “It’s really, really bad. Everything’s underwater.”
It’s almost an hour before our landlord gets a plumber out and shows up himself, and another two before all the extra water is sucked out of the house. The damage is done though. There’s definitely water in the walls, and it’s going to take a while to get fixed. Luckily, I have most of my stuff off the floor, so it’s not like I lost much. Jen on the other hand is a slob, and most of her clothes are soaked. I have no idea if she’s keeping them, but I’m not sure I would. They’ve been soaked in toilet water for who knows how long. We would be able to sleep in our rooms tonight, but we were going to have to get out as soon as possible. Our landlord leaves after that, and we’re way too tired to figure out what to do. My laundry is definitely going to have to wait. There are huge fans everywhere to dry out some of the carpet and the rooms, making it hot and almost impossible to sleep well.
Not that I can. While Jen has family nearby and Lexi has a boyfriend to stay with, I’m pretty much on my own. And our stupid landlord couldn’t care less. There’s probably some clause in our contract that says what happens in the event of a flood or something, but I’m just a dumb college kid. What am I going to do to him? And he’s right. I don’t have time to try to take him to court, or whatever else it’ll take to make him cough up money for a hotel stay (As if. He hasn’t even fixed our wonky front door, which has been broken since we’d moved in a year and a half ago). This late into the year it’s almost impossible to find a place to rent that’s available. And forget about it being affordable. If I had a car it might not be too bad, but as of right now I am out of options.
I wish that I could contact my parents. I left them a few mess
ages, but they have just left on a cruise yesterday, so who knows when they’ll get it. The three of us sit around the living room for a while, texting and trying to figure something out for me, then we head to our rooms one by one. I try to sleep, but of course, my mind keeps going over my options, running from this solution to that, but there really isn’t anything that I can do on such short notice. I don’t even know when I’ll find the time to look for a new place; the last half of the semester is always the busiest.
The sun is peeking over the trees and into my window when my parents call. I feel like a zombie, my head fuzzy from the lack of sleep.
“Hailey,” my dad says, his voice jolly. “We just got your message.”
“You did?” Maybe he didn’t understand it. Why else would he be sounding so happy?
“Took them a while to pass on the message, but we did. Terrible thing. Sent your mother into a spell. But I’ve sorted something out for you. You remember Mark?”
How could I not remember Mark? Mark, my dad’s oldest, and best friend. Mark, of the clear blue eyes and delicious body that my teenage self-adored. Mark, who just happened to move to this city four years ago and was the sole reason for my application to my university. That Mark? Oh yeah, I remember him dad. Of course, I said none of that. I couldn’t even admit my crush to my roommates, much less my parents.
“Who? Your friend?” was all I said.
“Yes. That Mark,” he said impatiently. “He lives not too far from you. Says he’s more than happy to offer you a place to stay while your landlord fixes the problems in the house.”
My mouth is suddenly very dry. My heart is also jumping out of my chest. My dad must have gotten his meds mixed up this morning. How could I possibly stay with Mark?
“Dad, did you just tell me to go live with Mark?”
“Well, why not? He’s got a huge place. Ten bedrooms or something like that. And he’s never around half the time. It would be perfect for you. Plus, I’d rest a little easier knowing that Mark is keeping an eye on you. I never really liked the idea of you going off to university alone.”
“Dad…” I say huffily. I hate having this argument with him.
“I know I know. You’re an independent adult and all that. Doesn’t mean I can’t worry. Anyways, do you have a pen? I’m going to give you his address right now.”
“But wait,” I start to say. “I can’t just show up at his door. I don’t think I’ve seen him in almost five years now.”
“Sure you can. We go way back. He’s already agreed to it. He stuck his key under the potted plant on the left side of the door for you so you can move yourself in today. He’s got some kind of work thing he said. I would do the same if he settled down long enough to have kids. Now come on. Your mother is going to be annoyed if I don’t get back soon.”
I scramble out of bed to my purse and reach for a pen so I can write down Mark’s address. After that, my dad says goodbye and I’m left with my thoughts. A part of me wants to jump up and down with joy because this was what I wanted-to be closer to Mark. The other, more rational part, isn’t so sure. When I moved to the city to begin school, the first thing I did was shoot Mark a text message telling him I was around, and if he had some time to show me the sights. He told me he’d try sometime when he wasn’t so busy, and like a dummy I waited, until I realized that he was just gently letting me down. Which I don’t blame him for. I’m his best friend’s kid. Not exactly someone a man like Mark, a world famous photographer, would be interested in hanging out with. He probably dated models or gorgeous bohemian artists.
After that first rejection, I made a point of just lusting after Mark from afar. There was one time last year when my parents showed up for a surprise visit and I saw him at dinner. He looked good, really good. Whereas my dad had headed straight for a beer gut and a receding hairline, Mark had turned out more handsome if anything, like a good whiskey. His hair was shot through with silver, and he had a few more laugh lines around his eyes, which he wore so well. That, combined with his easygoing smile and intelligent wit made him the all-around perfect package. Like George Clooney, but in real life. In my life.
You’d think I’d have taken that chance to really change his mind about me, make him realize that I was an equal or something, but I spent most of that night tongue-tied while he discussed some new hotshot photographer with my dad. Afterwards, I spent ages googling the names they’d talked about, hoping that I’d get another chance to impress, but of course I wouldn’t be that lucky. He was just too busy. But now I’ll have my chance! I jumped out of bed so that I could get to the shower first. If I’m going to be living at his place by the end of the day, I’d better look my best.
**********
The only good thing about the burst in the toilet is that it happened on the weekend, because Monday is an early day for us and we get home by around three. We are all pre-med students. It just works out better that way. We have almost identical schedules, and none of us would be upset about the other person being loud or having people over because frankly, nobody had the time. Lexi’s boyfriend and Jen’s mom shows up as well to help us move all our things.
Of the three of us, Jen has the most since she lived in the same city-she basically brought her entire bedroom from her parent’s house. The landlord called this morning to let us know that the repairs were estimated to take months and we are freed from our lease essentially. That was the worst news possible. There’s no way we’d be able to find a place for all three of us to stay together long term. We all know it too, because all of us are pretty somber. Jen is the first to go, giving the two of us long, tight hugs.
“We’re still going to see each other in class,” I murmur into her ear as she squeezes me.
“I know. But it’s not going to be the same, is it Hailey?”
She gives me a sad smile.
“Give me a call once you get settled in alright?” she makes me promise. I nod.
Even though the three of us are good friends, Jen is more perceptive of the two and she knows something has me going about the move. I only told them the rough details-I was staying with a family friend for a bit while I tried to find a permanent place. But I had a feeling Jen was going to ask me more about it later tonight.
Once Lexi, her boyfriend and I have our stuff packed up in his Civic, we head out. Mark’s place isn’t far, maybe twenty minutes by car, and luckily had a bus a few blocks away that could deliver me to the university. Neighborhood-wise though, it was miles apart from where I now used to live. The houses around the university are older, smaller, and more run down. Mark’s neighborhood was richer, a lot richer, with big old trees, huge lots, and I see more than one gated community as we drive by. Finally we stop in front of a gorgeous brick home. It’s at least two stories, maybe three, and it looked like it had a big yard too. I wonder if I’ll even see Mark half the time in a house this big.
“Hailey! You’re staying here?” Lexi says in awe as she peers out the window. “It looks amazing! Like something out of HGTV.”
“Yeah,” I say, admiring the home too. “Dad says he’s a pretty famous photographer. People pay a lot for his pictures.”
Lexi spins around and stares at me.
“Wait, what do you mean by ‘he’? Are you staying with a man? Alone? You?”
“It’s not like that!” I say defensively, a blush creeping up my cheek.
“Uh huh,” Lexi says skeptically.
“It’s not!” I say again as I slide out of the car and pull my suitcase out.
I quickly shut the door so that I won’t have to try and explain more, but Lexi is making the ‘call me’ sign with her hand, and I know that she’s not going to let me off easy. Damn my fair skin. My embarrassment always shows through. I tried to lie once when I was little, but my mom set me straight, and I’ve given up trying to lie ever since.
Once Lexi’s boyfriend drives around the corner, I turn and take my suitcase up the walk. The lawn is perfectly manicured, and the house is set bac
k far enough from the road to give some privacy. Large trees out front give shade, and the flowerbeds are full of blooms. I go up to the covered porch and spy two huge pots on either side of the doorway. I have to crouch down and push with all my might to get it to budge enough to reveal a key. I push that into the lock, pray that Mark didn’t have some fancy security system, and open the door.
Click here to get the book now!
About Lila Younger
Lila has spent her whole life in the PNW, where rainy days kept her inside with a book. A lover of the written word, she can’t believe that it’s taken her over twenty years to get around to writing a book. She’s always believed in love at first sight and happily ever afters. When she isn’t working on her stories, Lila likes to bake and hike in the mountains that make up her backyard.
