by Vi Keeland
He pulled me closer in one harsh movement, as he buried his mouth in me, lapping his tongue over my clit and using his entire mouth to pleasure me.
My eyes were closed as I felt his fingers slip inside me. He was finger-fucking me as he continued to devour my flesh.
I didn’t expect to come so fast. My muscles just started to contract over his mouth. I lasted all of about a minute, unable to remember the last time a man had used his mouth to pleasure me.
I screamed out in climax as I pulled on Rush’s hair.
He’d left me completely limp and speechless. Coming up for air, Rush licked his lips and groaned, “I can’t wait to fuck you, Gia.”
His erection was straining through his jeans. I knew he needed release, and I couldn’t wait to give it to him.
Grabbing onto his belt buckle, I tried to unzip his pants when he placed his hand over mine to stop me.
“I can’t go there tonight. I’ll wreck you.” He suddenly hopped off the bed. “I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared for a long while, and when he came back, I could only assume he’d gone to jerk off, because he seemed calm.
“Scoot over,” he said as he enveloped me in his arms.
He’d given me the best orgasm of my life, and now he was holding me. I couldn’t say it got any better than that.
“I missed this,” I said. “Sleeping next to you.”
“You only had it once and you missed it?” he said against my back.
“Every night since.”
Rush kissed my back softly. “Me, too, Gia.”
The warmest feeling came over me. I felt incredibly safe in his arms, safer than I probably ever had in my entire life
He traced his fingers up and down my arm as he lay behind me, spooning. Relaxed and content in the moment, I closed my eyes to enjoy the post orgasmic haze that blanketed me.
Our chests moving in unison, his front to my back, must have rocked me to sleep. Because the next thing I knew, the warmth of the sun hitting my face woke me to find an empty bed.
I leaned against the kitchen doorway. Now that was a morning view I could get used to.
Rush stood in front of the oven, shirtless with his hair wet, cooking something that smelled delicious while swaying to music. It struck me as odd that the music was country. I’d have taken him more for heavy metal or something.
“You gonna stand there and stare at me, or come give me a kiss good morning?” Rush spoke without turning around.
“How did you know I was even standing here?”
He rapped his knuckles on the stainless-steel hood over the oven. “Reflection. Nice outfit, by the way.”
I’d fallen asleep in my dress, and when I saw the shirt Rush wore yesterday on the floor next to the bed this morning, I decided to change into it after washing up in his bathroom.
I padded over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Good morning.”
He craned his neck back and met my tilted head for a kiss. “Sleep good?”
“Actually, really good. I don’t even remember falling asleep. Your bed must be really comfortable.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. It was the bed, not my mouth on your pussy that tuckered you out.”
“You’re so crass.”
He plated the eggs in the pan just as toast popped up from the toaster. “I forgot, I have to bribe you with a drink to get you to say dirty words.” He winked. “Go sit. I’ll make you some coffee and decide what I want to hear in order for you to get any caffeine.”
We sat down together for breakfast, and I couldn’t help but ogle Rush’s body. He had a lean, yet strong, muscular build. His pecs were sculpted, abs were chiseled into a six pack—or maybe it was eight—I definitely wanted to count the peaks and valleys with my tongue at some point, and his arms were corded and bulged each time he brought his coffee mug to his lips. I won’t even get started on that thin line of hair that ran from his bellybutton down into his sweatpants.
“What’s going on in that nutty head of yours this morning?” Rush had been watching me stare.
“I’m just checking out the merchandise.”
He arched a brow.
“What? You got to see me before you decided to ask me out on a date. I didn’t get to see you.”
His brows drew down. “When did I get to see you naked?”
“In the yellow bikini.”
He smirked. “That wasn’t exactly naked. Although I did see some areola and your entire ass. So it was pretty close.”
I don’t know what it was about Rush, but he made me bold. I shot him a devilish grin. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be unfair.” I promptly lifted the shirt I had on up and over my head, tossing it on the floor. I’d left my bra with my dress in the bedroom, so all I had on was a black lacey thong.
Rush’s fork clanked to the plate. “Fuck.” He swallowed. “You’re not making this easy.”
I tilted my head coyly. “Are you saying, I make it hard for you?”
His eyes trained on my breasts. I actually watched them darken to a deeper shade of green. “You have gorgeous tits.”
“Thank you.” I sipped my coffee, trying to act casual.
“I’d like to fuck them.”
I choked mid-sip and sputtered some coffee onto my plate. I’d started this, but Rush had certainly taken over. My mouth was suddenly dry, and it was my turn to swallow. “You’d like to…”
“Fuck them.”
“Umm. Okay.”
His eyes flickered to my neck, and he pointed at it. “I love your collarbone. It’s so delicate and pretty. The skin around it is so perfect and smooth.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m gonna come on it.”
“Pardon?”
“All over your neck. After I fuck those gorgeous tits.”
I squirmed in my chair. “And when is this happening?”
His eyes rose and locked with mine. They gleamed with wickedness. “Whenever I want.”
Maybe it should have upset me that the guy I’d just started dating had just told me at breakfast that he planned to have sex with my breasts and finish all over my neck whenever he wanted, but damn…I was game.
I jumped when Rush abruptly pushed his chair back from the table. He walked to where I sat and leaned down to kiss my lips. “Put your shirt back on. I’m trying to be good.” He scooped it up from the floor and held it out to me.
I pouted.
“Titty fucking requires at least another date or two.” He turned and started to walk out of the kitchen.
“Where are you going? You didn’t finish your breakfast.”
“Use your imagination, Gia. I’ll certainly be using mine.”
Rush drove me home. Even though I wasn’t ready to leave him yet, I really needed to write all day before working tonight. He idled out front instead of parking. “You’re on tonight, right?”
I nodded. “Six o’clock.”
“How about we do something tomorrow?”
“I’m working brunch starting at eleven.”
“I know the boss. I’m sure he’ll give you the day off.”
I smiled. “Okay! What do you want to do?”
“I was thinking of going in to see my mother. She wants me to meet some asshole she’s seeing, and you wanted to see her artwork anyway.”
My brows drew together. “She’s dating an asshole? How do you know if you haven’t met him?”
Rush deadpanned. “He’s dating my mother.”
I laughed. “And he’s automatically an asshole just because he’s dating your mother?”
“He starts out as an asshole and has to earn his way out.”
I leaned over and brushed my lips with his. “You’re lucky I find the protective part of you adorable, because some people really might think you’re the one who’s the asshole.”
“Go write, Shakespeare.”
I rubbed my nose back and forth against his. “Maybe I’ll write a scene where the hero goes down on the heroine since I
have such a nice memory to borrow from.”
Rush groaned. “Get out of my car before I have to take another shower.”
I chuckled and opened the car door. “Later, boss.”
I should’ve jerked off a second time this morning.
Considering it was the first time in my life that I was officially dating someone, you’d think I wouldn’t have to take matters into my own damn hands. Who knew dating meant stroking multiple times a day.
I glanced over at Gia sitting in the passenger seat. She had on a royal blue silky shorts romper thing with the shoulders cut out. It made her legs look like a mile of smooth skin. I wanted to come on all of that, too.
I raked my fingers through my hair. What the fuck is wrong with me when it comes to this girl? She’s sweet and clean, and I want to hear her talk dirty and soil her up. Last night, I tried so hard to keep shit professional at the restaurant. But when she bent over to pick up a stack of menus that fell from the storage room across from my office, I couldn’t help myself. I locked the door and sucked on those gorgeous tits until I got her to say she couldn’t wait to feel my cock sliding between them. And now, even on the way to my mother’s house, I was barely holding my shit together.
Gia kicked off her sandals and put her bare feet up on my dash. “So is the house your mom lives in the same place that you grew up?”
“One and the same. She’s been there for thirty-five years.”
“That means I’ll get to see where you slept as a teenager?”
“Yep.”
“I bet you were a handful as a teen. Bringing girls back to your room and what not.” She scrunched up her nose. “On second thought…I might not want to go in that room.”
“Come on. We can pretend we’re fourteen again, and I’ll feel you up while sucking your face and pressing a lead pipe into your hip bone.”
She laughed. “Fourteen? Is that when you started feeling up girls?”
From her reaction, I figured it best to not tell her it was more like twelve. “Somewhere around there.”
“That’s young.”
“How old were you the first time you got felt up?”
“Eighteen.”
My eyes flashed from the road to her to see if she was kidding. She wasn’t.
“Eighteen is a little old to go to first base, isn’t it?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
“Boys must have been hounding you growing up. I’m guessing the late start had nothing to do with lack of opportunity.”
“No. I was asked out a lot. I just…”
I side glanced over at her. “You just what?”
“I don’t know. In hindsight, I think I might not have wanted to let my dad down. My mother had acted irresponsibly by having me and taking off. He put so much into raising me. I just didn’t want to disappoint him.”
All of the girls, and most of the women I spent time with as an adult, had the opposite goal in life. They wanted to piss of their fathers. I’d always kept away from the daddy’s girls, telling myself they were prudes. But suddenly I wondered if I had kept away from those girls because I didn’t think I could live up to the standards they had. Gia definitely had high expectations and that scared the crap out of me.
“I saw the way your father looks at you, the way you two interact, I don’t think it’s possible for you to disappoint him.”
She smiled. “Anyway, to get back to our conversation. I never had a boy feel me up in his bedroom. But I did let Robbie Kravit put his hand under my sweater in the back row of the movies when we were seniors in high school.”
“Is it fucked up that I have the urge to punch Robbie right now?”
She giggled. “Well, now you know how I felt over the last month…women stopping into the restaurant to proposition you while wearing little leather skirts.”
I hadn’t thought about that. “I didn’t invite any of them.”
She looked out the window, quiet for a minute and then said, “Can I ask you something?”
“When a woman asks if they can ask you something, it’s usually not something I want to answer.”
She laughed. “Were you with any women since we met?”
“No.” I’d almost gone there the night she’d jumped into that fight. But honestly, I had forced myself to reach out to another woman just so I could stop thinking about Gia, and I’m doubtful if I would’ve even gone through with it if I’d shown up. “I wanted to be with someone because I thought it might stop me from obsessing over you, but I never actually did it.”
She nodded and said nothing. Which made me fucking paranoid. Does she have something to confess?
“Were you with anyone?”
“No. I’ve only been with one other person in the last year. And like I told you, that was a total mistake. I got lonely and fell for the nice guy routine because I missed feeling a connection with a man. But I realized after he left me with the wrong number that sex doesn’t satisfy the connection I missed.”
I shook my head. “Now I want to beat the crap out of the asshole who played you, too. For a variety of reasons. The first being that he got to be inside you and I haven’t.”
Gia rested her hand high on my thigh, and I almost swerved out of my lane. “We can fix that you know?” she said. “I’m not the one making us take it slow. We just passed a Holiday Inn at the last exit.”
I groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman.”
“Hi!” My mother opened the front door and engulfed Gia in a big hug before even acknowledging me. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
The two of them started complimenting each other on shit immediately.
“I love your necklace.”
“Blue is your color!”
“Did you change your hair?”
I rolled my eyes. “What the hell am I? Chopped liver?”
My mother stuck out her bottom lip. “Awww. Does my little boy feel neglected? Come here. Give your mamma a hug.”
Well, now it just feels forced. But I didn’t give a crap because my mother’s the shit. I squeezed her tight, and it felt freaking awesome.
When she pulled back, she looked between Gia and me with the most excited face I’ve ever seen on her. She clapped her hands a few times, barely able to contain her enthusiasm. “Come in. Come in.”
The house I grew up in was small, a typical Cape Cod-style starter home that packed many of the middle-class neighborhoods on Long Island. But my mother kept it filled with bright colors and paintings, so it always felt bigger than most of my friends’ homes for some reason. The best thing that came out of my grandfather leaving me the inheritance was that I was able to pay it off for her a few years ago.
“Wow. I love this place.” Gia looked around wide-eyed.
“I’m a bit of a wannabe decorator. I change the colors and move the furniture around all the time. When Heathcliff was little, he’d leave for school in the morning and the walls would be tan and couches red and he’d come home and we’d have blue walls and I’d have a staple gun out reupholstering the couches.”
Gia smirked at me. “Heathcliff. That sounds so funny to me, even though I know it’s his name.”
“Some of my family call him, Heath. But that never felt right to me.”
“Wasn’t he named after someone?”
Mom nodded. “My father. He was a good man. But Heathcliff never got the chance to meet him. He died when I was pregnant.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. He actually reminds me a lot of my dad. Tough guy, a little rough around the edges, but fiercely loyal and protective.”
Gia smiled. “I’ve definitely noticed the protective side.”
“I bet you have. Come on, let me show you my studio before Jeff gets here to take us to his gallery.”
“You two go ahead,” I said. “I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. I’m gonna go out back for a quick smoke.”
The two women turned to me and frowned in unison.
�
�I wish you’d give that up, sweetheart,” Mom said.
“Me, too,” Gia tacked on.
I looked between the two of them and growled. “Just what I need. Two of you up my ass.”
Jeff was nothing like I expected.
He looked more like a grandfather than someone my mother should be dating. Although, I suppose, technically, my mother is old enough to be a grandmother, too. I just never saw her as old because she didn’t act it and looked so young.
Jeff had gray hair, tanned skin with deep-set wrinkles, and had on a pair of loafers. I’d never even known she dated, much less got a look at a guy she spent time with, yet I expected him to look more like a rocker than a guy who sits in a damn rocker.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Gia walked up next to me as I pretended to study a painting in Jeff’s gallery. It looked like a bunch of ink splats to me, but the price tag was seven grand.
I pointed to the splat. “Would you pay seven grand for that?”
She chuckled. “I don’t have seven grand in my bank account. But if I did, I wouldn’t be wasting it on that.”
“What would you be spending it on?”
“September.”
“September?”
She sighed. “Yeah. The house we rent is twenty thousand a month in the summer months, but drops to a fraction of that in September. I just realized I only have six weeks left out there.” Our eyes caught. “I’m not ready for it to be over yet.”
Yeah. She wouldn’t be leaving if I had anything to do with it. I covered my nut for that rental with the spring and summer income. But it was too soon to ask her to stay and tell her I’d foot the bill.
She bumped her shoulder to me. “So…what do you think of your mom’s boyfriend?”
“I think he’s old as fuck.”
She laughed. “Melody said he’s only four years older than her.”
“He looks forty older.”
“Who cares? He seems like a nice guy, and they look happy together.”
I glanced over to the other side of the gallery. Jeff and my mother stood in front of a painting and he was telling her something while pointing at the art. Her head bent back in laughter, and my heart squeezed. “Yeah, they do look happy.”
