by Brook Wilder
“That was him,” Della whispered. “Al.”
“I figured,” Prescott said, some of his ire leaking out into his voice. “It would have been nice if you’d told me that when I first asked you about it.”
“I didn’t know who he was then!” she insisted.
“But you could have described him,” Prescott retorted, rounding on her. “You were holding out on me. I knew it.”
“Look, I didn’t ask for this,” Della replied her voice rising. She wasn’t backing down now. “I didn’t want to see what happened that night, and I didn’t want to be a part of your investigation. Don’t go blaming me for trying to stay out of it.”
“I would have let you stay out of it if you’d been honest with me from the start!”
“How could I have known that? I didn’t know you at all. How could I possibly have trusted you?”
“For Christ’s sake,” Prescott groaned, stepping closer to her. She automatically backed up until she was against the outer wall of the garage. But she didn’t break eye contact with him. “I was unarmed when I came to see you. I was open with you about what I wanted.”
“Yeah, right! You didn’t even tell me what you knew or why you were connected to the crime!”
Prescott let out a frustrated sound as he leaned over her. He was going to come back at her with something else, but the argument died in his throat as he realized how close they were. She was glaring up at him for all she was worth, her back pressed against the wall. From this angle, her lips were only a few inches from his. When he didn’t speak, her angry expression changed into one of confusion. Her eyes searched his as she tried to figure out what he was thinking.
Prescott closed the small gap between them, pressing her between his body and the wall of the garage. He waited for her to push him away, but she didn’t. Without another thought on the matter, he took what he wanted, his lips coming down on hers. Finally he could feel that perfect mouth of hers. And it was perfect. Soft and warm. Even better, she was kissing back, moaning softly into his mouth.
Prescott was hard in seconds. He needed to have more of her. Her whole body. His hands went back to that luscious rear end for a few precious seconds before traveling higher, under her shirt. He found the clasp of her sports bra and undid it easily, freeing her breasts. Della continued to make little noises of pleasure as he explored under the bra, her breasts filling his hands.
At this point, his cock was straining, begging to be let free. And he had half a mind to do it. He’d take her right then and there, sink himself into her warm body. She was more than willing. Her hands were doing their fair share of roaming, running over his back and stomach. Her touch set fire to his skin.
Just as he was reaching for the zipper on his jeans, Prescott heard someone clear their throat. He pulled away from Della reluctantly. She was panting, and her hair was falling out of its ponytail. Her face was already red from their activities, but it turned a deeper shade of crimson when she saw that Shaft was looking at them.
“Not the time or place,” Shaft said.
There was no judgment in his tone; he was simply being the voice of reason. Like always. Prescott hated that he’d been interrupted, hated that Shaft was right. He had wanted Della so badly. He still wanted her. But she was already reaching behind her to redo her bra, avoiding Shaft’s gaze as she did it.
“You should take her home,” Shaft said. “There’s nothing more she can do for you now. The longer she stays here, the more danger she’ll be in.”
“Yeah, I know,” Prescott agreed reluctantly. “How’s the mood in there?”
“Tense, but getting better. They’ve stopped talking about her. For now.”
“Alright, we’ll take off. Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
“Come on,” Prescott said to Della.
She nodded and walked in front of him over to his bike. His eyes never once left her ass, which was bouncing hypnotically. He had so longed to see it bouncing on him. But Shaft was right. They needed to get out of there.
Prescott waited while Della strapped on her helmet, and then they got on his bike. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, and again Prescott cursed Shaft’s timing. If only he hadn’t ruined the moment. Shaking his head, Prescott started the bike and pulled out of the parking lot, putting the clubhouse far behind them.
Della held on tight to Prescott as the street flew by beneath them. The ride was long enough for her to do plenty of thinking. Even now, several minutes after Shaft had interrupted her and Prescott, her body was screaming for release. She knew she shouldn’t have let Prescott touch her, and she shouldn’t have given into her own desires at all. The two of them were too different to ever be in a functioning relationship.
But she couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of his hands on her body, his lips on hers. His stubble had prickled at her skin, enticing her further, and made that kiss incredibly memorable. It still struck her as strange that she hadn’t pushed him away, that she hadn’t feared him. But Prescott just didn’t scare her. Strangely enough, he made her feel safe. Protected. He was a refreshing change from Simon, who terrified her. Even now, she shuddered at the prospect of seeing him again.
Della found herself wishing the ride wouldn’t end. She knew once they got to her apartment, Prescott would leave her. She would likely never see him again.
Her mind rebelled at this prospect. Though she knew what Kate would say, she couldn’t listen to reason. She refused to. Her body wanted something very specific: Prescott.
But how was she going to get him?
They pulled up in front of her apartment building and Della slipped off the bike. She lingered on the sidewalk with the helmet in her hands. Prescott was looking at her expectantly.
Riding the leftover waves of desire and courage, Della looked him in the eye.
“Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?” she asked. “It’s early. I haven’t had any yet.”
His eyes searched hers, and she knew he had picked up on what she really wanted from him. She waited for him to turn her down, to ride away and find some club girl to mess around with.
He didn’t.
“Coffee sounds good,” he said, cutting the bike’s engine.
He hung up the helmet she offered him, and together they walked into her apartment building.
Della opened her front door as quietly as possible and poked her head inside. Kate’s door was still closed. Della breathed a sigh of relief. Her roommate was a heavy sleeper, and she usually didn’t wake up until midday. She opened the door all the way and invited Prescott in. He seemed to tower over her even more in the small room. His presence took over every ounce of Della’s focus. Suddenly she was at a loss for words, and she forgot what she was supposed to be doing.
“Kate’s still sleeping,” she whispered apologetically. “So… so we have to be quiet.”
Prescott’s arm went around her waist, pulling her close to him. He easily held her gaze. There was a fire in his eyes. Della felt her pulse pick up as heat bloomed in her body.
“I don’t want to be quiet,” Prescott said.
In one swift movement, he had her pinned against the wall again, and his lips were on hers. It was like they’d never been interrupted earlier. They were picking up exactly where they left off. Della gasped into his mouth, her body becoming red hot. She’d never been kissed like this. Prescott’s every movement was calculated and powerful. It made her knees weak. Fortunately, he was holding her up, with one hand cupped over her ass.
When his other hand began massaging her breast through the fabric of her shirt and bra, she moaned quietly. Her hand found its way to his hip, and then around his front to the fly of his jeans. It was time to find out if he was going to live up to her dream version of him. She undid the zipper and freed his erection. Della couldn’t believe what she was feeling. He was larger than she’d expected. She wondered if she’d even be able to take him inside her.
Prescott made appreciative noises when she sheathed him
with her hand and began to stroke him. He immediately moved to reciprocate, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her sweatpants and panties. She sucked in air when he touched her center, which was already wet and open for him.
“You’re getting ready for me,” he murmured. “Good girl.”
His fingers delved deeper, and Della put her hand around his wrist.
“Not here,” she whispered. “Please.”
Prescott listened to her, taking his hand away.
“Lead the way,” he said.
Della took his arm and guided him to her bedroom. As soon as she closed the door behind her, he was there, his hands cupping her face as he took his time kissing her again.
Prescott was barely able to contain himself. His instincts were screaming at him to tear Della’s clothes off of her and take her roughly, show her that she was his. But he had been waiting for this too long to waste the opportunity. He was going to savor this.
Pulling back from Della’s perfect lips, which were now red and swollen from his kisses, he began to lift her tank top. She lifted her arms for him as he pulled it all the way off of her. He could see that her breasts were practically begging to be freed from the confines of her sports bra, and he was more than happy to oblige. The clasp came undone easily, and she shrugged it off. Her breasts came free, spilling out. He drank in the sight of them, perfect and full. Della blushed a little under his gaze and averted her eyes. He took her hands in his and guided them to his shirt.
“Undress me,” he whispered.
Biting her lip, she obliged him. She removed his kutte and laid it gently on her desk. Prescott appreciated that she was careful with it. She clearly knew how important it was.
Next came his t-shirt, and he saw her eyes go wide as she took him in. Her fingers began exploring every inch of his body. Prescott had to exert a great deal of self-control to keep himself still. She found every scar, one by one. She kissed her way from one side of his chest to the other. He was so hard now that it hurt, but he loved the attention.
Finally, her hands found his jeans. He helped her slide them down and off of him. Then his control broke and he hurried things along, removing his shoes and hers, then going for her sweatpants. To his delight, she was wearing an enticing pair of lace panties. He quickly removed those, too. On his feet again, he saw the apprehension in Della’s eyes. Reaching out, he drew her to him and nibbled gently on her ear.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I won’t hurt you. I’ll be as gentle as you need me to be.”
“I’m not worried,” she said. “Just… a little… inadequate. You’re so… perfect. And I’m…”
She shrugged helplessly. Prescott didn’t like that she was thinking that way. Did she really think she wasn’t good enough for him? He was going to have to disavow her of that notion. With his arms around her, he guided her back toward her bed and laid her down on her back. He crawled over her and kissed her hard. While he kissed her, he sought out her breasts. He pinched at her nipples, rubbed them with his thumbs, until they were hard and taut. That was when he lowered his head to suck one and then the other. He drew circles with his tongue, sucking hard at first, then more softly. Della made helpless little moans and reached up to cup her breast for him, giving him better access.
When he moved lower, kissing his way down her stomach, he felt her muscles tense. He was getting close to her center, and that was making her nervous.
“It’s okay, baby,” he said looking up at her. “I just want to taste you. I’m going to make you nice and ready for me. All you have to do is open yourself for me.”
She still looked uncertain, but she spread her legs for him. Prescott took a second to drink in her beauty. She was perfect from head to toe, and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be with her right at that moment.
He dipped his head down and pressed his lips against her core, using his tongue to part her tender folds. Her bud hardened almost instantly, and she gasped in surprise when he paused to suck on it.
“Prescott,” she breathed, her hands clutching at the sheets.
He continued to nuzzle and suck at her for a moment, knowing he was building her up. That’s when he began to stroke her with his fingers, teasing her, pushing her toward climax. When she started squirming, her moans coming out more desperately, he pulled back.
She looked up at him, her eyes glassy, her lips slightly parted. He drew her up onto her knees and rubbed his hands up and down her arms.
“I want to feel your mouth on me,” he told her. “Will you do that?”
She looked hesitant, but in the same way as before. She wasn’t sure of herself. But she nodded anyway, and allowed him to lower her head towards his throbbing cock. She opened her mouth and slowly took him inside her.
At first she didn’t move much. She sucked a little, and swirled her tongue around the head. He waited for her to adjust, giving her the time she needed. Soon she was experimenting, taking more of him into her mouth with each suck.
“I love how that feels,” he encouraged. “You can take all of me. I know you can.”
Emboldened, she quickened her movements. He felt her relax more and more as she got into a rhythm, sucking up and down, tonguing the base of his shaft. She began to moan as she worked at him.
“Oh yeah, baby. That’s nice,” Prescott groaned. “You’ve got the sweetest mouth I’ve ever felt.”
He reached up to run his hands through her hair, cupping the back of her head as she continued to drive him wild with her actions.
When he couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled away from her. He didn’t want to risk coming. He’d miss all the good stuff. Gently, he laid her down on her back and crawled over her. He parted her legs with his, eager to drive himself into her.
“Wait,” Della said.
Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions and feelings. She was barely able to think. Prescott had been everything she’d wanted and more. She couldn’t believe he was here with her now. When she’d told him to wait, he’d hesitated. He looked confused, like he was thinking that she was reconsidering. She wanted to disavow him of that notion as quickly as possible.
“Protection,” she breathed. “I’m not on the pill or anything.”
He looked relieved. Shaking his head, he found his wallet on the floor and pulled a condom out of it. Della instantly relaxed as he put it on. When he returned to her, she happily opened her legs for him.
“You ready for me?” he asked.
In answer, she pulled him to her and kissed him fiercely. Prescott moaned into her mouth. He felt her pressing against her entrance, and then he simply slid in. Della arched her back as he filled her. She felt deliciously full. When he began to move, thrusting slowly with long, perfect strokes, she dug her fingernails into his shoulders. He grunted, and she quickly pulled her hands away.
“No,” he said, rubbing his rough jaw against hers. “I liked that. Don’t be afraid with me. You do what feels right.”
He pulled out almost all the way and pushed back into her with one, powerful stroke. Della’s hands involuntarily flew back to his shoulders, clutching at him. She raised her hips to him on his next thrust, begging for more without uttering a single word.
He happily obliged her, picking up the pace, his hips connecting with hers in the perfect rhythm. It wasn’t long before Della felt the pleasure mounting inside her. The feelings that she had been denied earlier, when he’d had his mouth on her, were now crashing back. And they were more intense than ever. She moaned Prescott’s name, her head slowly rocking back and forth.
Sensing she was close, Prescott took her nipple between his thumb and index finger. He began pinching and squeezing, heightening her pleasure until she couldn’t take it anymore. Della was sure she was drawing blood, her fingers were dug so far into his flesh. She was so close it was starting to hurt.
Before she knew what was happening, Prescott had pulled back. Before she could express her disappointment, he had flipped her over and propped her
up on her hands and knees. Then he was inside her again, taking her from behind. Della couldn’t believe how deep he was inside her. She’d thought she’d felt all of him before, but now she could see that that had been nothing compared to this. Within seconds, she was close to climax again. This time, she felt like she might reach it.
Then his hand traveled down the length of her body, his rough palm scraping enticingly at her breast and stomach. His fingers stopped at her core, and he began to play with her there, all the while he continued to thrust forcefully inside her.
“Prescott, oh my God!” she cried.
“That’s good,” he whispered into her ear. “You’re going to come for me. I want to feel it. I want to hear you scream.”
He punctuated his words with more intimate touches. Della quickly reached the edge, and then she was falling. The sensation was too much. She cried out as waves of pleasure crashed through her. No one had ever made her feel this way before. She’d barely been able to make herself feel this way. But Prescott made it seem easy.
