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Pink: Hot 'n Sexy for a cure: The Books for Boobies 2015 Anthology

Page 28

by Tara Oakes


  “Hurry,” she pleads, her body trembling faintly with anticipation.

  I lean over her, reaching around with my other hand to cup her pussy. “You ready?” It’s an obvious question. She’s more than ready. Her wetness coats my palm, and her skin scorches beneath my touch.

  “Trey.”

  I slam into her without warning, and she screams my name again…and again. Anyone walking down the hall would hear her. It fuels me, empowers me to the point of manic thrusting. She greedily eats me up each time I do.

  “Fuck,” I exclaim uncharacteristically. I normally remain silent while fucking, but she drives me fucking crazy. Her pussy is addicting.

  “Trey, I’m close.”

  I can feel how close she is with each thrust. I’m waiting for it. Just as she comes, her walls clench fiercely. It fucking blows my mind right before I blow my load. Gritting my teeth, I continue my assault as she falls apart around me. Her hands move from the couch to my forearms. She holds tightly, communicating she’s not done. Once the last contraction subsides around me, I ram forward and freeze.

  She pants beneath me, letting me lose my own shit my own way. Punishingly, I hold her around her waist, squeezing until I can feel my last spasm drain me…in more ways than one.

  She remains silent, waiting for me to calm.

  I grab her jaw and turn her head toward my face. “I fucking love you,” I say before crashing my lips to hers. I don’t say it often, but she knows I do. When I do admit it, she always responds the same way.

  “I know.” After a few long minutes when I haven’t moved or pulled out, she asks, “Good?”

  “I need a minute.”

  She waits patiently for me to regain my composure, tracing her fingertips on my forearms. The cold air hitting my cock makes me want to plow right back in. If we weren’t backstage, and our friends weren’t a room away, I would. The old Trey wouldn’t give a shit where we were, or who was waiting for us. Fuck, things have changed.

  “Ready to party?” she asks sarcastically.

  “I’d much rather stay here and fuck you again.”

  She moves until her body presses up against mine. “You give me a signal, and I’ll meet you right back here. But first, I need a drink. You wore me out.”

  My cock starts to swell again as I watch her naked body bend to retrieve her clothes. With a fingertip, she lifts what’s left of her torn panties. “You’re going to blow all your money buying me underwear.”

  “Worth every penny.”

  With a shake of her head, she starts to walk toward the bathroom until I say, “Nope,” stopping her with one word. My hand begins to stroke my cock. My sticky skin heats with each pass. It’s so fucking hot to have her juices on me and to know that my come is deep within her.

  “Don’t look at me like that.” She hates not cleaning up after we fuck…or so she says. I don’t believe her. I know she thinks it’s just as hot by the way her thighs squeeze together while she watches me leisurely jacking off.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you want to eat me alive.”

  “That’s a given. I’m trying to figure out how I can fuck you in that room full of people.”

  “God knows you’re capable,” she reminds me with a raised brow.

  “You weren’t complaining then.”

  “I’m not complaining now.” She raises the zipper of her skirt, adjusts her boobs, and closes the distance to kiss my lips. “Lord knows sometimes I need to be the adult in our relationship. Hurry up. Jen won’t be happy with you.”

  “I’ll handle Jen,” I mumble grumpily. That woman irks the crap out of me. She’s a great manager. It’s lucky she is and we are where we are, or I’d be busting her balls a lot more than I do. Somehow, I know that wouldn’t break her. Jen has bigger balls than I do.

  My mood plummets as we make our way to the party. Jen had some important suits seeing the show tonight. She arranged for a backstage soiree for them. We all prefer to hang casually after a show, unwinding at our own pace. Having execs there is annoying in so many ways. I was dead serious when I threatened to fuck my girl in a room full of people. Well, obviously not by bending her over in front of our friends. I do have some morals.

  I meant in more of an inconspicuous kind of way. I once had her sitting on my lap as my cock filled her pussy. We both have become experts at “undercover-coming,” as I refer to it. No one was the wiser. The fact that she goes with the flow, allowing me my indulgences, solidifies that I’ve met my match.

  Tit for tat, my girl can keep up with me at every turn.

  The noise hits us before we reach the door. I groan, dreading what we need to endure.

  “It’ll be fine. We’ll grab a drink, hide in a corner, and slip out undetected.”

  “Little Lair will never allow us to slip out. If they have to suffer through, she’ll be sure we also suffer through. She’s generous in that way.”

  “She loves you. Be nice to her.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Trey!” the little pain in the ass calls out the minute we step into the room. She stalks toward us, smiles at my girl, and grabs my arm. “You need to settle this,” she says as she drags me toward Hunter. He sits on a couch with Mandi at his side, smirking annoyingly. Jack sits on the other side of Mandi, grinning at his wife. This could only mean one thing.

  Leila stops us in front of Hunter just as Scott snorts out loud, predicting what’s about to go down. Patti giggles in her predictable way. All eyes are on me, including Hunter’s scowling ones.

  “Tell him,” Leila prods.

  “It’s true.”

  “You?” he asks, folding his arms over his chest.

  “Me.”

  “My favorite band of all time, the band that the best drummer on this planet—before me, that is—played for until his untimely death, wants to meet you?”

  “Yep.”

  “Led-fucking-Zeppelin?” he squeaks like a girl.

  “The very same.”

  “I told you so,” Leila quips. She’s so proud of me. She always has been. Yeah, she is proud of all of us, but I hold a special place in her heart. It’s obvious in the way she is beaming at me.

  “I can’t believe this,” he huffs out in frustration.

  “Sorry, dude.” I shrug. “I’ll get you an autograph.”

  Hunter stands, walks toward me until we are inches apart, and says, “Make sure they all sign it to Hunter, the second-best drummer in the world.”

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  *Breast cancer is the most common cancer among women worldwide and the second-most common cancer overall. In 2014, an estimated 232,030 cases of invasive breast cancer will be diagnosed in the U.S. alone. So no matter who you are or where you live, understanding breast cancer is important. But the most important thing to know is this: a diagnosis is not a death sentence. Breast cancer can be treated.

  (*Above text is shared from the home page of ww5.komen.org)

  For every book sold at 0.99 every single cent of royalties will be donated to the National Breast Cancer Foundation. That means your purchase just added about .30 to our group donation. We have a real opportunity to make a life-changing impact by helping women access the mammogram testing that could save their lives.

  Please donate directly to the National Breast Cancer Foundation to help us reach our goal HERE.

  Thank you so very much, and we hope you’ve enjoyed this anthology. Please be kind and leave a written review for us. This limited-time anthology will be available through Oct. 31, 2015. Paperback editions are available for sale on Amazon if you’d like to have your own keepsake.

 

 

 



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