by Lynne Silver
Her lower half gave a little pulse of pleasure at his dirty words and then she melted at his next ones.
“Get on your knees. Face that way, back to the shower head.”
She literally panted as she followed his orders. Danny climbed in behind her, kneeling. He lined up his cock and toyed with her, as he pushed forward then pulled back without penetrating her.
“Jesus, you’re wet,” he said. “I can feel it through the condom. Slippery. Sweet.”
She’d never known he was a poet.
“Stop talking and get in me,” she said, and then sucked back a breath at her ordering him around like some kind of dominatrix. “I’m sorry. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
He chuckled and said, “Getting a little needy? Good. I’m going to make you beg.”
“I’m begging now, you jerk.” At that, she rose on her haunches and clapped a hand over her mouth, turning to him. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I called you a jerk.”
He leaned in to slap a kiss on the back of her palm over her mouth. “It’s why I like you. You’re always honest with me, and there needs to be honesty during sex, right?”
“If you say so,” she muttered. “Can we forget I shouted at you and get back to the good stuff?”
He grinned. “Got it. Back to the good stuff.”
She returned the smile and then he gave her a wry look. “The good stuff, Amy. Turn around.”
Oh right. She made it back to her knees, ass in the air, and a second later Danny lined himself up and pushed inside.
“Better?” he asked, as his hands came to her hips and pulled her deeper over him.
“Much,” she managed to say.
When he remained buried in her, but frozen, she glanced back.
“I’m waiting for my next orders,” he said. “I’m a little scared of you, right now.”
“You’re evil.”
“So I’ve been told many times,” he said. “But if you want another orgasm, I’ll need to hear you beg for it.”
“As you said, I already came. Perhaps I’m ready for bed,” she said. Before she could move forward and slide off him, he nudged his cock deeper inside her, causing every sensitive and needy tissue to stand alert. A noise escaped her, giving Danny all the power, because now he knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Again?” he asked.
“Yes. Harder.”
He followed orders and her head hung down, damp heavy hair framing both sides of her face hiding her vision from anything except seeing her own hands braced on the tub floor. She used that as leverage to push harder back against him as he met her more than halfway.
“Jesus,” he said. “Feels good.”
“Yes.”
“Better than my best high.” He pounded into her harder. “Addicted to you now, Amy.”
His words were addictive. No man had ever made her feel this good, and she was right there on the same page as Danny thinking sex between them could become a very bad habit.
Or a very good one, depending on your point of view.
On her knees, getting fucked by a seriously sexy man and barreling toward her second orgasm in an hour, she was inclined to think it was a very good habit. A damn good one.
“Gonna come,” he said, slowing his hips and swiveling deep inside her, hitting sensitive flesh. She tensed to follow him but didn’t quite make it as he finished with a grunt.
They remained on their knees, water pouring down on them, with Danny’s back taking the brunt. “You didn’t come,” he said.
“It’s okay,” she said, but she was quivering with how close she’d come. Maybe he wouldn’t notice if she sprinted back to her room and finished with her vibrator.
“Turn around, spread your legs.”
“What?” He couldn’t be ready to go again, could he?
“You heard me. Do it.”
God, he turned her on when he issued orders like a caveman. She had no choice but to follow orders, right? If she didn’t he might spank her or… Her imagination went blank at what other sexual deviancies Danny might force onto her, but she was embarrassingly wet thinking about it.
“Hang your heel over the ledge.” He positioned her until she was spread wide for him, her swollen, hard-used, but still desirous pussy on display for him.
He rose, pulled off the condom in a swift move, then grabbed the hand-held showerhead and aimed it exactly—wait, a little too low—where she needed it. She shifted until it hit her right, then closed her eyes, rested her head against the tub and let the orgasm wash over her. She’d die of humiliation later when Danny wasn’t around to watch how desperate she was for his touch and the orgasm he could deliver.
Within seconds she was writhing on the floor of the tub, squeezing Danny’s hand.
“That’s it, baby. So hot.”
Her orgasm came to a screaming crescendo as powerful as an old-school eighties metal band. She had to push the hand holding the showerhead away from her before she passed out from too much sensation. As she came down from the high, she caught a glimpse in the mirror of her splayed out before Danny: him, a gorgeous muscular god, her, a beached whale. They didn’t fit. Not at all, yet a few minutes ago when he’d been buried deep inside her, they’d fit perfectly.
It was all confusing. They were perfect sex partners, but what if that was all?
It was a slow day in the store. The post-Christmas shopping fervor had died down and Cat had asked for the morning off to scout wedding venue locations. Engaged less than a week, and already scouting wedding venues. She hoped it wasn’t a sign of a bridezilla-to-come. Her absence meant Amy was alone in the store with nothing to do but rehash last night’s lovemaking with Danny.
Idly, she folded and refolded stacks of T-shirts until they were military-straight. Her head was anywhere but in her store. Instead she was reliving how he’d looked at her when the hot water finally ran out and they’d climbed out of the tub, breathless and exhausted from making each other come.
He’d climbed out first and helped her out, almost tenderly wrapping her in the only towel in the bathroom. When he’d moved in with her, he’d had barely more than the clothes on his back. Slowly, he was stocking necessities as finances permitted, but it was slow going. She knew he was determined to pay Ian back ASAP, and insisted on paying rent to her. He had little money for extras like towels.
Maybe she should buy him some… No. Buying home goods for someone was the domain of a lover. Damn it, she needed to get her head on straight or she’d be doing something incredibly stupid like falling in love with Daniel Ross. Bad. Idea.
Determinedly, she went to the register counter where her cell phone lay next to the register and opened a dating app. After both watching Cat and Ian fall in love and spending another lonely night aching for the man in bed down the hall from her, she’d done what she’d sworn never to do and filled out an online profile. That had been a month ago, and there’d been very few hits.
Silly her, she’d been honest in her profile about her weight and her desire for a committed relationship. It appeared the majority of single men in Miami wanted skinny one-night stands. She’d gone on exactly one date with a man who was off a bitter divorce and wanted to make his ex-wife jealous more than he wanted to fall in love.
Amy had been waiting for the men to approach her on the dating site and had barely scanned any of their profiles. Today, she’d find a man and ask him out. Except when she logged into the app, there was a star signaling that someone had looked at her profile and wanted to connect. Curious, she clicked on her potential candidate.
Mitch Blumberg
Age: 31
Occupation: lawyer
Hmmm. She brought the phone close to her face, squinting at Mitch’s photo. He looked…nice, if a bit boring. Brown hair, slightly receding, boring outfit: polo and khakis, but that was easily remedied. Weight-wise he was a perfect match for her. Poor guy, the women of Miami were probably brutal unless he had a lot of money to back up the gut.
Sh
e took a deep breath and clicked on the button to respond to his message. She was shocked, when two minutes later, her phone buzzed with a reply from him.
Dinner? Tonight?
She held the phone as if it were a bomb about to go off in her hand. A little eager, were we, Mitch Blumberg? And then a second message came through.
I know I seem overeager, but I’m leaving town for work and wanted to meet you before I leave.
This guy was a puzzle. How to interpret it. Either she read it at face value and he was being sincere. Or the whole leaving town thing was a ploy in case the date went bad and he didn’t want to contact her after. Oh, what the hell? It was one date. What was the worst that could happen? She could get stuck with the check or spend an hour in a boring conversation? No biggie.
Ok she texted back and they exchanged a few more messages finally agreeing on dinner at seven at a restaurant near her store. As soon as she hit send, she felt horribly guilty, as if she were cheating on her boyfriend, except she didn’t have a boyfriend. She had a former drug addict friend-with-benefits living in her house. She owed him nothing. Now to convince her heart of reality.
The chimes on the shop front door tinkled and she looked up, shoving her phone into her pocket. There was a tall blonde woman entering the store, looking around as if something in the store smelled rotten.
Amy approached the woman with her internal radar sounding a warning. “Hi. Welcome to CFA.” CFA was the name of her store, which was an acronym for “clothing for all.” “Are you looking for anything in particular today?”
The woman looked directly at her. “Oh, I’m not here to shop.” She gave the impression that she’d never shop here. “I came over to introduce myself. I’m Kym, with a Y.”
“Hi, Kym with a Y,” she said, wondering who the woman was and why she was here if not to shop. “I’m Amy with a Y.” As in, why was this woman here?
“I own the place next door,” Kym said, pointing to the wall on the right, toward the store that had been vacant since summer. Construction had been in full swing for the last three months, and Cat and Amy had been curious about their new neighbor. Now she knew it’d be Kym who didn’t look like the kind of shop owner who’d hang out at night or want to organize a neighborhood holiday festival.
“Oh, cool. Welcome to the neighborhood,” she said. “It’s good to have the place next door open. It’s better for business if we can share clientele.”
“I doubt we’ll share a lot of customers,” Kym said with a little laugh that made Amy’s teeth hurt.
“Oh?” she said. “Your customers don’t like gorgeous well-fitted clothes?”
“My shop is high-end athletic wear. For women who are into fitness and their health.”
She blinked, not sure she heard Kym correctly. “Excuse me?”
“Well, isn’t your store for plus-size women?”
Her lips parted and her heart hammered as she tried to come up with a smart yet biting response, but came up empty, as she was in shock. She managed to stammer out, “I work out.” Like there’d been an election, and she’d been voted spokeswoman of overweight women everywhere.
Kym eyed her, making her feel ugly and ten times heavier than she was. “Mmhmm. Well, I have to go. So much to do with getting a store ready. You know how it is. I wanted to pop over and size up the competition.” Then she wiggled her fingers in her direction and breezed out of the store, leaving uncertainty and hurt in her wake.
At closing time, Cat breezed in the store with an ear-to-ear grin on her recently engaged face. “Hola, chica.” Amy bent down for cheek kisses. “Did I miss anything?”
Amy jokingly glanced at her empty wrist where a watch would be. “Uh, work.”
Cat laughed. “I’ll work all weekend. Promise.”
“Don’t you have to work at OCXA?” she asked, about Cat’s fiancé’s nightclub.
Cat hopped up on the stool by the register and gave a smile that looked almost sad. “Ian and I decided that I’m not going to work at his club anymore.”
Well, that was huge news. Amy leaned her elbows on the counter. “Why not?”
“Now that I’m living with him, and Danny’s not as needy, the money situation is better. I don’t need to work two jobs.”
“And you picked my store?” She was both shocked and touched that Cat had picked working with her every day over spending nights with her husband at his club.
“Well, duh.” Cat shook her blonde hair. “Working with my bestie and getting great clothes as a perk, or standing all night in painful high heels and getting my ass grabbed by douche bags? No contest.”
“I’m your bestie?” The words slipped out of some dormant insecure teenaged part of her that still remembered Cat as one of the queen bees of middle school and her as an overweight wannabee.
Cat gave her a look that said don’t be an idiot. “Amy. Speaking of besties, what’s up with you?”
Your brother’s fucked me senseless the last two nights, she wanted to say but wisely kept that on the DL. “I have a date tonight, and the new owner from next door came over to say hi,” she said instead.
Cat literally squealed.
“I think you set off the alarm,” Amy said. “Don’t go nuts. She’s a bitch.”
Cat wrinkled her nose. “Who is? Oh, the new owner? We’ll get to her.” She waved that topic aside as easily as Amy wished she could wave Kym and her athletic wear store away. “You buried the lead. Tell me about the date. Who’s the guy? Where’d you meet him?”
“Breathe, Cat. It’s only one date.”
“I know, but you haven’t been on one in a while. It’s tonight? Where? What are you wearing?”
Oh, God, she should’ve kept her big, fat mouth shut, because now Cat would want to know every detail of the date tomorrow. What if it was horrible? Or worse, what if it was amazing and then she’d tell everything to Cat, pinning all her hopes on one Mitch Blumberg who probably would find the love of his life on the airplane seat next to him and never call Amy again.
“I’m wearing this.” She pointed to the T-shirt and loose silky trousers she wore. Chunky beads in bright colors hung around her neck. “What?” she asked at Cat’s frown. “No good?”
“You look great for work, but it doesn’t say date.”
She walked over to the mirror and saw that Cat was correct. She looked professional but not particularly sexy. “What should I do? I’m not sure I have time to go home and change.” Luckily Cat didn’t examine her statement too closely, because Amy lived blocks from the store and had plenty of time to go change and meet Mitch at seven. Truth was she didn’t want to go home and run into Danny who’d want to know where she was going.
“Amy, you own a clothing store. Pick something.” Cat gestured to the racks.
She felt her cheeks heat. “Good point.” She stepped to the rack of pretty dresses, but Cat beat her there and shuffled through the hangers in her search for the perfect date outfit.
An hour later, she was redressed in a form-fitting black, cleavage-revealing top and loose flowy red skirt. The bright beads were changed out for a long silver chain that nestled over her boobs. Cute sandals that wrapped up her ankles completed the look.
“Wait. Hair.” Amy allowed Cat to brush her long glossy brown hair until it fell down her back. Given the heat in Miami, she rarely wore it down, but they were having a rare winter cool spell.
She gave Cat all the relevant information so if she went missing Cat would have details for the police. A single girl couldn’t be too careful. Then she elicited Cat’s promises to lock up, and that she wouldn’t walk by the date restaurant a block away to spy. Amy didn’t buy it for one second, but there were worse things in the world than having a supportive friend spy on your date to make sure it was going well.
At seven on the dot, she slipped out of her store with a wave to Cat and walked to the sushi bar where she was meeting Mitch. The restaurant had TVs along the wall with hilarious Japanese game shows on loop, so if Mitch was late,
she’d have something to do besides check her phone.
When she arrived, a large man she kind of recognized from his profile photo rose and gave her a wave. Her stomach did a little nervous flip and again her gut warned her that she was cheating on Danny, but she swallowed back the feeling and gave Mitch a large smile as she shook his hand. “No trouble finding parking?”
“No. I sprung for the paid lot. I didn’t want to be late.”
That was nice. It showed consideration. She was also glad he’d managed to get a real table and not one of the high tops with bar seating. It always felt as if she was going to topple off the tiny bar stools.
As she bent to pretend to study the menu—she and Cat ate here frequently and she always got the same thing—Mitch said, “They tried to give me that table.” He pointed to the high top. “But I refused. Those stools look like a sheet of paper on toothpicks.”
She laughed. “I know, right? I usually do takeout from here.”
“Does that mean the food is good?” he asked.
“Pretty decent. It’s not the best sushi in Miami, but it’s reliable and good.” That led them into a discussion of their favorite Miami restaurants, and Amy was impressed that Mitch seemed to have dined in every neighborhood in Miami from barbeque down south to stone crabs on the beach. He was impressed she’d eaten at Okto multiple times.
“Don’t be too impressed. I have an in with the hostess, thanks to my best friend and co-worker. If she ever leaves her job, I’ll never get to eat there again.” That led to a discussion of her store and Miami fashions, so engrossing that Amy was startled by the waitress’s appearance to take their order. The conversation flowed, and Mitch was super easy to talk to.
When the waitress left with their order, she was surprised to learn he was not just a lawyer, but a lawyer for the Miami Dolphins organization.
“Wow, do you get great seats?” she asked.
“Yes. Do you like football?”
“No.” Her honesty made him laugh.
“I’m a huge sports nut,” he said. “Any and all sports. When it was clear after seventh grade that I’d never go pro in any sport, I focused on what careers I could have in the industry.”
