by BJ Harvey
I remember how good it was with him and am more than aware of how long it’s been since I’ve had sex with anyone other than my hand and toys. The promise—no guarantee—of everything I know his talented mouth, hands, and cock can give me is almost too much to bear. But considering it was a one-time thing ten months ago and he’s never shown any intention of calling by for a repeat, I have to deal with it and move on.
I’m just horny and a little buzzed—that must be it.
“I need another drink,” I mutter, slipping off my stool.
“You alright, Abs?” Dani asks.
“Yeah, just need to re-hydrate.” I can’t tell her that Cade just undressed me with his eyes and drew every single breath of air out of me with that one look.
It was just my luck that the best sex of my life—albeit only one night—would come from a man I met at a bar who happened to be friends with everyone.
Thankfully, Dani is the only one who knows Cade picked me up like a pro and made me sing like an expert choir master.
As fan-fucking-tastic as that night with him was, we both knew what it was and what it never would be.
I look back to the girls. “My round,” I announce before making my way to the ladies first to cool myself down before ordering another tray of shots.
Before I get anywhere close to the bathroom or the bar, Kyle—one of the guys I work at the hotel with—waves me on to the dance floor.
When I’m within arm’s reach, Kyle’s arm shoots out and hooks me around the waist, pulling me into him. I shriek and laugh, my hands coming up to his chest on instinct.
“Hey baby, you’re looking so fucking hot in that dress,” he slurs before burying his face in my neck. As if that wasn’t enough of a hint that he’d been drinking—a lot—the overwhelming smell of bourbon surrounds me.
Kyle and I have hooked up a few times. Was he good with the big cock he was blessed with? Yes. Is he a douche? Yes again. The last time I even looked at him twice was ten months ago. He’s a nice guy with the maturity of a sixteen-year-old who’s just discovered sex. He spreads it far and wide and with as many people as possible. So much so that we’ve started calling him Mr. STD since he caught the syph a few months ago and had to inform all of his recent sexual partners so they could get tested. There was—no word of a lie—ten female staff members who had to get checked out.
Ten different women that he’d bumped uglies with in a three-month period.
Suffice to say, although I hadn’t been naked with him in a very long time, I still brought my yearly physical forward for my own peace of mind.
I knew I was clean though because the last man I’d been with was a certain ER doctor who I’d been discreetly—maybe not so much—eye-fucking since I’d arrived.
With both hands on his chest, I push Kyle backwards, causing him to stagger sideways.
“What the fuck, Abi?” he asks, taking a step towards me.
“Kyle, we’re colleagues—that is that. Just because we slept together pre-STD does not give you the right to put your hands on me,” I say indignantly, and because nothing says ‘pissed off woman’ more than a hand on one jutted-out hip, I do just that.
“Woah, babe. Take a chill pill,” he says, squaring his shoulders.
“How about you take a ‘stop being a walking venereal disease’ pill? Oh wait—that’s called antibiotics.”
“You weren’t this much of a cow when you were taking my cock.”
My eyes flick up to the balcony and just my luck, all of the guys are now leaning forward, taking an interest in my situation all of a sudden. Cade’s not there though—he’s standing at the edge of the stairs, like Captain Fantastic waiting to swoop in and save the damsel in distress. Little does he know that I’m not a woman who needs a man to save her.
Knowing Kyle’s drunk and probably won’t remember this in the morning—although I’m hoping the friends he’s with will remind him—I step closer and let my inner bitch fly free.
“I took your cock because you were there, it was big, and I was horny. That was it, Kyle. You were a human sex-toy when I was bored. Unfortunately for you, everyone here knows what used to be your best asset is now more than likely diseased, and any hope you had of getting laid again anytime soon just took a nosedive.”
“Fucking bitch,” he seethes, and makes a move to come at me.
Thankfully, his friends step in front of him just as Sean strides over to us. I step back and nod to him, taking my leave and continue on to the bar, not before sneaking a quick glance to the audience on the balcony to see Cade’s eyes burning into mine, the rest of the gang nodding in approval.
One thing’s for sure—I definitely need a drink or ten now.
An hour later I decide to call it a night, since everyone else has left except Mac and Sam.
I get off my stool and hook my purse strap over my shoulder. “I’m just going to catch a cab home.”
Mac opens her mouth to say something but stops and stares behind me.
“I’ll take you,” Cade’s warm, velvety voice says. A delicious tingle runs down my spine to settle between my legs.
I turn around to look at him. “Thanks, but—”
“It wasn’t a question, Spitfire,” he murmurs, his eyes drifting down to my low-cut dress that shows a lot of my God-given boob talents.
“Right . . .” I reply with a small smile, something Mac doesn’t miss.
“Really?” she muses. “Didn’t know you two knew each other.” She looks up at Cade. “You sly dog.”
Cade chuckles, and I shoot him a glare. “It’s not—”
Mac puts her hands up. “Hey, I’m not judging.”
It’s then that Daniel comes up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders and giving them a squeeze, his eyes zeroing in on Cade and I standing beside each other. “You two leaving as well?” he asks, nonplussed.
Mac swings her body ‘round to her husband. “You knew?” she accuses him.
“Knew what?” he says with a smirk. “Gorgeous, we’ve got three munchkins to get home to.”
“But—”
“Makenna Winters, I want to get you home,” he says low, his meaning clear as day. Her face transforms from sassy to soft the moment those eight words leave his mouth.
She huffs under her breath and stands up but not before pinning me with her eyes. “We should get together, Abi, and soon.”
I grin, knowing she’s going to be like a dog with a bone now. “Sure. Not sure what we’d talk about though,” I reply innocently.
“We’ll find something, I’m sure,” she shoots back.
Cade’s hand lifts to the small of my back, and I shiver before I can stop myself.
Mac’s eyes drop to Cade’s arm then meet mine again. “Yes, we’ll definitely talk.”
Daniel snorts and gives us both a chin-lift before grabbing his wife’s hand and leading her away.
Now I’m alone with Cade, my stomach does joyous somersaults that maybe I won’t have to go home and play with a latex penis tonight.
“Let’s go, Spitfire.”
“Cade . . .” I murmur. I at least want to say something before he drags me home to fuck me senseless—here’s hoping, anyway.
“Glad you remember my name, Abi, because after watching you all night in that dress, I’m looking forward to making you scream it when I’m deep inside you.”
Deciding to make him work for it—just a little—I turn to stand in front of him, my boobs brushing his chest as I go. “You sound rather hopeful, don’t you think?”
“Don’t need to hope when I know it’s a foregone conclusion.”
“What if I’m with someone now?” I retort, shooting him a playful smile and totally giving myself away.
“I’ve been watching you, Spitfire. I saw the drunk idiot try it on and laughed when you set him straight.” He moves in close, putting his hands on my hips and pulling me hard against him, our bodies now plastered together from boobs to pelvis. I’m forced to hold on to his biceps t
o stay upright—forced . . . unable to stop myself . . . same thing—as he continues his verbal foreplay. “I also know you’ve been eye-fucking me tonight just as much as I’ve been mentally undressing you, and after spending most of the night hard because of you . . .” He drops his forehead to mine and runs his lips along my jaw until he reaches my ear, nipping the skin between his teeth. “I think it’s only fair to ourselves to get lost in each other and share an orgasm or five. What do you say?”
My breathing is hard, like harder-than-his-cock-pressing-into-my-leg hard. My throat is dry, and my body feels like a boiler with a broken thermostat. Just a few words and he has me drenched and ready to ride him dry.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he says, turning the most innocent of comments into the dirtiest of promises.
“You meant home, right?” I ask as he steps back, dropping his fingers to lace with mine and leading me out of the club.
It’s not until we’ve walked down a corridor at the back of the club, past a security guard, and through a staff door that I realize he still hasn’t answered. “Cade?”
“Yeah?” he replies,
“What are we doing?”
“Give me twenty minutes, Spitfire, and if you still don’t know, I’ll know I’m not doing it right.”
“God, I’ve missed that tongue of yours,” I moan as he licks, flicks, and sucks like a master. “Maybe you could patent it. Call it the Carsen method.”
His dancing eyes meet mine, and he hums against my sensitive clit, causing me to arch my back and push my hips forward.
“I take it you’ve missed my mouth then?” Not waiting for a response, he adds his talented finger to the mix, slowly pushing one deep inside of me.
“God, yes,” I rasp, gyrating my hips in a silent plea.
Dropping his lips back down, he rolls his tongue forward and back at a dizzying speed, igniting sparks deep inside me as he adds another finger, curling it to brush against my G-spot. “Good. So damn good.”
I writhe on the mattress, my hands cupping my breasts and gently squeezing my nipples. My gaze drops down to watch him, his dark eyes meeting mine as he growls against my most sensitive spot. “Come for me, Spitfire. Ride my face and fucking come,” he growls and with two more deep thrusts of his fingers, I shatter, my climax decimating me.
My voice is hoarse as I cry out, thrusting hard against him. He doesn’t stop though—he keeps at me, his mind-blowing assault continuing, and orgasm number two slams into me on the back of number one.
He slowly brings me back down to earth, gently peppering kisses up my body, sliding his naked skin against mine. My hands grip his head and pull his mouth to mine, my tongue diving in to meet his, and I moan when I taste myself.
“Fuck,” he says gruffly, sinking his teeth into my bottom lip, tugging it before moving back to look down at me. He rolls his hips, his long, hard cock grinding against my sensitive core. “I need to be inside you.”
“Condom, top drawer,” I spit out hurriedly. “I need—”
“I’ll give you what you need,” he murmurs against my lips, his arm reaching out to the nightstand and blindly rifling through the drawer until he finds what he needs, pulling it out and ripping the foil packet open. His hand dives between us, and as he braces himself on one arm above me, I reach down and snatch the rubber out of his hand, slowly rolling it down his rock-hard length. Adding a squeeze at the base, I give him a few firm strokes before lifting my hips and lining him up. Then, with our eyes locked together, he gives me that über-sexy smile of his that says he’s gonna get some before simultaneously slamming into me and crashing his lips down on mine.
Some people may frown on my behavior, but they’re not me. They’re not the ones who walk in my shoes and have to live with my choices.
Life is life, and sex is sex. Sometimes it leads somewhere—something that hasn’t happened for me yet—and sometimes it’s just two people having fun, sharing bodily fluids and hopefully orgasms before going their separate ways.
There’s nothing wrong with it, as long as you’re both on the same page.
Due to my two jobs and the times of day I work them, my social life—in particular my love/sex life—has expectedly suffered. I have friends, I have my parents and four—yes four—brothers who I’m all very close to, but thankfully, I’ve never been the type of woman who has to be with a man just for the sake of it.
I have needs, yes, but I also have the means to deal with them. I’m a modern woman who takes care of number one first and foremost—me.
But lying in bed with Doctor Hottie beside me—again—having been well and used and abused in the best possible way, I wonder if I’m missing out on something.
My body aches in a way you know when you’ve been fucked and fucked well. Actually, that doesn’t even cover it. I could go months without sex and still feel sated and satisfied with what Cade gave me last night. The man knows what he’s doing and proved yet again that he’s a high achiever in every way possible.
I roll onto my side, taking in a fucking gorgeous sleepy Cade, his eyes half-open and hazy, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Morning,” he says roughly.
“Hey. I thought for sure you’d sleep in.”
“Why sleep when there are much better things to do?” He moves his arm under the cover, gliding his hand up my thigh, over my hip and cupping my ass in his big hands.
I smile and copy his move, except I go in with gusto and go straight for his gloriously hard cock, wrapping my fingers around him and giving a squeeze. “Like this?” I ask as I slowly slide my hand up over the tip and back down.
He groans and moves quick-as-a-flash to hover over me, cupping my breast and bracing himself on the bed.
His gaze drops to where his thumb brushes over my hard nipple. A jolt of heat shoots straight down to the V zone. I arch my back, wanting more, my grip tightening as I continue torturing him.
Dipping his head, he captures my bottom lip in his teeth, nipping sharply before soothing the sting with a swipe of his tongue.
The last thing I remember before passing out from exhaustion after round three is just how much I enjoy Doctor Hottie’s bedside manner.
Flat on my back with Abi draped over my right side, an idea comes to me. If I had a date for the campaign launch, my mother would stop trying to set me up with one of her friends’ daughters. She’d stop being so hell-bent on marrying me off to a socialite Stepford-wife-in-training and—hopefully—finally let me live my own life. It would also give me the opportunity to get to know Abi outside of the bedroom.
I envy my brother. He got out early, escaping Mom’s expectations and attempts at finagling beneficial relationships for her children. Callie—three years older than us boys—has been through it all, including cotillion, etiquette classes, and debutante balls. It was one of the proudest moments of my life when she came home two years ago with her now husband Jonathan, a marine biologist who works at Shedd Aquarium. He had no family connections and was definitely not what my mother would consider an ‘ideal’ partner for a Carsen.
My sister didn’t give a fuck, and a year later—after a civil ceremony at City Hall—she held a small, intimate ceremony in my parents’ back garden to keep the peace. She’s now three months pregnant with their first child—and the first Carsen grandchild of this generation.
“Can I ask you something?” Abi’s fingers that were mindlessly playing with the sparse hair over my pecs pause minutely before resuming their surprisingly relaxing strokes.
“Does it involve round four? Because I might need a nap before we go again,” she replies, her lips curling up against my shoulder.
“I like your way of thinking, but this is more of a favor.”
She puts a hand in the bed and pushes her torso up, not at all bashful or self-conscious about her breasts being out and proud—and rather distracting. My arm resting on her hip drops down to cup her delectable ass, settling in like it was lost and now it’s found.
“What is it?” she a
sks.
“I have a function I have to go to in two weeks, and my mother threatened to sic one of her friends’ single daughters on me as my plus one.”
She tilts her head and smirks. “Not keen on having a socialite on your arm?”
I run my fingers through my hair and sigh. “Do you know my surname?”
“We didn’t exactly do much talking the first time we met.”
“You made a lot of noise though,” I muse with a shit-eating grin. That first time with Abi was fucking mind-blowing. I can’t believe it took so long for another romp.
“So did you, but I like using my mouth for other things.”
Fuck, this girl is killing me. My cock barely goes soft before she wakes him up again.
“I seem to remember a sex battle with Dani and Zach though,” she says with a smirk.
“Don’t remind me,” I groan. “It took me months to not think about it whenever I saw him.”
“You didn’t seem to care at the time.”
I glide my hand up her spine and tangle my fingers in her hair, her body leaning into mine as I tug her down to brush my lips against hers. Pulling her back, I’m gratified by the sexy-as-fuck glazed look on her face.
“So you don’t know anything about my family?”
“I know you’re a doctor, I know your name is Cade. You know all of Dani’s friends and together, we’re dynamite in bed. Do I need to know more?”
I chuckle and slowly run my hand up and down her bare back. “I’d like you to, but you should probably know what you’re getting in to before you agree.”
“Are they the family?” she asks with a devious whisper.
I bark out a laugh. “Do I look Italian?”
“No . . .”
“That’s because I’m not. Have you heard of Carsen Capital?”
“Who hasn’t?” she says, resting her chin on my chest again, my hand now stroking her hair.
“Cade Carsen II is my father.”
