by Claire Adams
“Be prepared to be in this car for a long damn time then because I’m not saying anything—whatever it is you want me to say or thought I was going to say—you are crazy.”
I crawled up into his lap, wrapping my legs around his body against the door.
“Say it,” I ordered.
“The snow will melt before I fold,” he said defiantly.
I began to slowly, but methodically, dry hump him, feeling a growth swelling under his pants. He grabbed my ass, squeezing it aggressively.
“Say it…” I whispered.
“I will say nothing. No good ever comes from me talking.”
I laughed. “I only wish you talked more. When you don’t think with your head so much, and you always go with your gut, you might learn what your heart truly wants.”
He looked at me with a sense of amazement.
“I might have to steal that for my repertoire,” he said.
“We can share,” I said, sliding my hand up under his shirt, feeling the muscles spread across his torso.
“We might as well finish our sandwiches because it’s going to be a while,” he said, reaching for his unfinished lunch.
“Oh no,” I went on. I leaped onto him, pressing him hard against the car door.
“You’re really not going to let me eat my food?” he asked, beginning to push me backward. I thrust myself forward and kept him pinned by constant movement.
“You don’t like the way this feels?” I asked him.
“Of course I do, but you’re trying to use torture to get information,” he said through repeated breaths, moving his hands into my pants and pressing his warm hands against my cold skin. “I’m not going to say it, so you might as well not even fuck my brains out in this car.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I said, leaping at him again.
We began to passionately kiss and make out, slowly and awkwardly removing our clothes within the tiny space in the car. Despite layers falling off my body at a fast rate, I still felt warm. I also knew that I might risk overheating once Sawyer was entirely inside of me.
Once our clothes were off, he reached over toward my bag, surely reaching for a condom. This time was different, however.
I put my hand on his wrist, pulled it back, and moved it down to reach my pussy. I wanted him to feel how much I quivered and how warm he was making me. He felt me as I then felt him. We played with each other, loving every moment of ecstasy that we pulled out of each other.
“You don’t want to have sex…?” he asked me.
“Oh, I do,” I replied. “I just didn’t want you to have to put on a condom if you’d rather not.”
He looked instantly puzzled, skeptical, and hopeful. “What are you saying?”
I climbed into his lap, our cores throbbing with intense delight. I wrapped my folds around his shaft, and slowly, I began to timidly ride his bare cock, just to feel the sensation and prepare for what was next.
“I’m saying that I got on birth control about a month ago, and it’s working now,” I said to him, biting my lip. “This is part of your surprise. Now we get to fuck each other without any barriers between us. I imagine that you’ll empty your hot cum into me in less than a minute.”
“Get that dick in you, and let’s fucking find out,” he said, flexing.
I took him in slowly at first. I felt the tip of his cock pierce my folds, going deeper into my aching cunt with every move I made. With each passing inch of him that buried further into my recesses, I began to succumb to overwhelming pleasure yet again. It was incredibly different. I felt the difference within seconds. Feeling the heat from his thick dick expanding into my walls was a joy that I had only hoped to experience before then.
As I bounced up and down against the power that was penetrating my eager pussy, I remembered that I had a mission before I found my new joy.
“Say it!” I yelled at him.
“Oh, this feels so fucking good, baby. Oh god,” he moaned out.
“I heard you nearly proclaim your love for me,” I moaned out. “Fuck yeah, live in me and never come out.”
“I’m going to love giving you my fucking load, Hannah,” he said, gripping the back of my neck.
“Say it,” I repeated.
“No,” he repeated.
We began to fuck each other with an intensity that shook the car. Assorted fruits were flying off the seat and onto the floor. The car creaked with every significant move we made. The windows appeared to shake whenever I would exclaim as loudly as I knew how. We sped up, clapping our bodies together, racing to the finish and the climax that would follow.
Just as I began to tighten around his hot shaft and just as his vehement thrusts began to increase to speeds I had never felt with Sawyer before, he pressed his face against mine, kissing me all over.
“I love you,” he finally said to me.
“I love you,” I said back to him.
We gave ourselves to each other, and it was perfect.
We didn’t arrive back to Lightning Fast until two hours before closing. He was reprimanded the next day. That was when he decided it was time for him to quit his job, too. We were days away from being unemployed, and we didn’t care.
Epilogue
Sawyer
A Few Years Later
Hannah and I moved out of the apartment we shared together about three months after each of us quit our jobs in Madison. At first, we moved over to Milwaukee, where she worked as a receptionist at an office building, and I worked at a mechanic shop downtown. We only tried that out for a few months before we realized we had made a mistake in locale and employment.
Next, we moved out of Wisconsin entirely (to the dismay of her family), setting up base in another chilly part of the country: Southeast Michigan. We went there because we both knew different people around the area who could get us quick, easy work doing the same things we were doing in Milwaukee. We stayed until the next year came. It brought a deathly cold winter along with it, and that was our cue to bounce.
We decided that our next destination was going to be somewhere we really wanted to live. Milwaukee was chosen mostly for convenience and Michigan was a safe, cheap approach. Next, we decided to drive around Boston, Massachusetts and see if we fit in over there.
We learned quickly that Boston was a place for visiting and leisure, not somewhere we wanted to live and build a home in. So we traveled west of Boston and came across a town called Fitchburg.
We found a small house that we loved, bought it, and have lived in it ever since. Hannah began taking classes online and working part-time as an online customer service rep for Omicron, while I scored a top position at ‘Otto Auto Body,’ a popular mechanic shop on our side of Massachusetts. I was also constructing my bike shop in my spare time, never in a rush, but always with a passionate drive.
I still talked to Dave occasionally on the phone or online, but he stayed mostly absent from the world of social media or cell phones. He and Stephanie had a baby boy together when Hannah and I first moved to Fitchburg. They named him David, after his dad. I had pushed for the child to receive his own original name, but I was overruled.
Hannah and Amy still spoke often. Even though their time was usually spent apart, maintained either by a phone or a computer, they never felt like it detracted from their friendship. They seemed to have a better relationship than many of the friends I had made in Fitchburg.
As for Jared and Lisa? I never knew what became of Lisa, and I only heard rumors about Jared. Hannah had even heard from a mutual friend of hers and Jared’s that he was in prison, somewhere in Montana, for nearly beating a man to death in a bar with a police baton. As much as I wanted the verification that he was locked away for good, I could never find thorough answers whenever I searched online to see what became of him. I wasn’t sure what I thought had happened to him, but I felt sure that he was never going to bother us again. When we left Madison, we really did leave Madison and all that it held.
It was the summer,
and the grass was greener than I had ever seen it during seasons’ past in places like Wisconsin or Michigan. A little rainfall periodically sprinkled the neighborhood, but overall it was sunny and warm. It was on days like that when I wished I didn’t have to leave my house.
I sat on our front porch, sitting in a chair, and drinking a cold beer. I surveyed the area, noticing the majority of homeowners outside and enjoying the weather. I was friendly with most of my neighbors, even if our conversations were generally trivial.
Eventually, I was joined by my girlfriend, my partner, and my roommate. She sat down in the seat next to me, also drinking a cold beer. She let the sun hit her bare, smooth legs. She was wearing shorts, a rarity that I was still not accustomed to.
“What could make this moment better?” Hannah asked.
“If these beers refilled magically on their own,” I answered.
“We’ll probably get that technology soon,” she said, letting the sun’s rays cover her entire body. “Isn’t it crazy how long we stayed in Wisconsin?”
“Hey, if we hadn’t stayed as long as we did, we probably never would have met,” I said to her. “And, who knows? We might not have moved here if we hadn’t met.”
“That’s true,” she said, taking my free hand and caressing it. She was wearing sunglasses, but I could still feel her enchanting gaze through the tinted shades.
“I’m so grateful that we found each other,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately. There’s just something so different about you than any other girl.”
“You’re still a dream come true, Sawyer.”
“I’m the one living the dream, darling one,” I said as I leaned in to kiss her soft lips, lightly grazing her upper lip with my tongue. I could taste her beer.
“You’re really still happy being with me?” she asked.
I was taken aback, curious about her sincerity. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… are you still happy that I’m your girlfriend?”
I saw a perfect cue and took it without missing a beat.
“No, actually, I’m not,” I said to her.
Now she was taken aback. “…What?”
“I don’t know if that’s enough,” I said, grinning. I stood up on my feet and held out my hand, and she took it.
“Are you saying you’re not happy?” she wondered.
“I’m happy, but I know I could be happier,” I replied. “Let’s go inside.”
She followed me into our house. I closed the front door behind us and guided us down our hallway to a lone, closed door at the end of the hall. I leaned against it.
“Hannah, when was the last time you went into our spare bedroom behind me?” I asked her. “Just a ballpark guess.”
“Wow, I don’t know… I was going to say ‘a few months,’ but… it’s longer than that. I think the last time I went in there was when we were cleaning the house last summer. Wow, I guess it’s been a year since I went in there.”
I nervously tapped my fist against the door, anxious about opening it.
“We can really take a spare room for granted,” I said smiling. “It seems so small, but you can fit a lot in there. A lot can happen in a spare room, too. We know that better than anyone from back at the old shaky apartment complex in Madison. For me, the point when my life began to change for the better was once I found myself stuck in a spare room with nothing but my wits and a burning desire for my roommate.”
She took off her sunglasses. She covered her mouth, staring at me, and processing every single word that I was saying.
“We would soon begin to make love in that spare room, among many other remarkable places,” I added.
“I don’t think we left an inch of that apartment untouched by our bodies,” she commented. “That time was… so…”
“I’ve never felt as close to you as I do today,” I carried on, shaking. “I never thought that a love like this could be real. You never cease to amaze me and blow my mind and rock my world and… make me want only you, forever.”
I opened the door. She looked in, mouth agape, speechless.
The room was filled with flower petals. The floor had the most of them, due to gravity, but many had managed to stay stuck to the walls. Many different flowers were represented in the multicolored blanket that sat before us. It looked like an exotic place that didn’t exist.
She turned to face me, mouth still agape, and her body now shaking as much as mine.
“Just what is this, mister?” she asked playfully.
“Oh, hang on!” I said.
I ran past her over to the window. I could hear a brisk gust of wind hitting the house, so I just did what felt right in the moment.
I opened the window, and the colors became alive.
The petals leaped from their resting places and were all spinning rampantly through the air, going everywhere. We were both laughing, enjoying every second of the surreal dream that was our reality.
I looked at her, barely able to make out her facial expression due to the ocean of petals zipping all around us. The sounds of the petals were almost alien, a noise that you could only hear in that condition alone. The floral barriers around us looked resilient enough to fight an army, but were light and brittle, easily able to be moved with a pinky.
“You are the love of my life, Hannah Stone, and before—”
With impeccable timing, random bits of paper began to get included in the floral mix and hit me in the face. Those hurt far worse than flower petals.
“Before either of us gets a seriously bad paper cut, I wanted to ask you something,” I told her. “No pressure, even though I’m going full romance here.”
I got on both of my knees. I took a jewelry box from my back pocket, opened it, and showed it to her.
I bought her an enormous, expensive engagement ring.
“Holy crap, oh my God,” said Hannah while starting to panic. “That is not my engagement ring.”
I smirked. “Well, I was hoping it would be!”
“That ring is too amazing, and beautiful, and perfect. You didn’t get me this.”
“You can say it all you want, it won’t make it true,” I told her. “I, Sawyer Smith, got this ring just for you. I helped them make this ring! I designed it with only you in my mind and in my heart. I never want to stop going on this journey with you, and since that’s what I want, I want you to be my bride.”
“Oh my God,” she repeated.
“Hannah Stone, will you marry me? Will you be my wife?”
She started to cry. I didn’t know how to react because she couldn’t look at me. I stayed on my knees, awaiting her response.
It didn’t take long. She extended her fingers toward me, nodding her head, and wiping away her tears.
“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, Sawyer,” she said.
The wind had begun to die down, but the petals in the room were still floating all around. In the midst, I slid the engagement ring down Hannah’s ring finger. Our embrace after was something that I will cherish until the day I die. We kissed each other for hours, not leaving our spare room for the next several nights in a row.
All I wanted was for us to get married as soon as possible, but I learned to be patient and not require things to happen in record time. It was never about the spoils. The journey was fun for us, and we were going to be going on a lot of them. I knew it wasn’t a mistake; I had found my soulmate, and I would treasure her until my last breath.
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BOSS’S VIRGIN
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
&n
bsp; Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
Chapter One
Ian
This is what happens when you do favors for friends.
Jonathan asked if I’d do him a solid and give his friend an interview since we needed to hire a new secretary. What were the words he’d used? Smokin’ hot AND intelligent? I looked over my steepled fingers at the girl sitting nervously on one of the two chairs on the other side of my desk. The chairs were maple, straight-backed, very fine craftsmanship but no cushions, so whoever was sitting there would have to perched upright, slightly uncomfortable. At attention, if you will. My own ass was luxuriating in an ergonomic leather executive chair—Tuscan leather, mahogany accents, ability to recline, retractable footrest. I was reclining now, as a matter of fact, wishing that I had not agreed to do this favor for Jonathan. I mean, this girl, Daisy, was attractive, sure, but she dressed in such a way that was trying to disguise it, with her black A-line skirt that went past her knees, her blouse buttoned all the way up, those black, school marm oxfords. This girl didn’t need a job; she needed a goddamn crash course in fashion.
But we’d just sat down, and if I didn’t at least go through the formalities, I’d have to endure Jonathan’s bitching, and I already heard enough of that as it was.
“So,” I said. “You’re friends with Jonathan?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. She cleared her throat. “Yes,” she said again, a little more loudly. “We met at the gym.”
“And you were previously employed at . . . where?” I leaned forward and rifled through some papers on the desk, though there was nothing there that would give me any clues about her previous work experience.
“Shear Genius.”
“The hair salon?”
“Yes. I was the administrative assistant there.”
“You were the secretary.”
She shifted. “The administrative assistant. I handled all the reception duties, scheduling, payroll, filing, and some light bookkeeping.”
