by Krista Wolf
That smile…
“Send him one,” I said. I pushed another of France’s colorful bills forward, an orange one this time. “Know what? Send her one too.”
The drinks arrived, and they drank them. The guy didn’t even look up. He kept smiling, laughing, even flirting with the girl next to him. It was absolutely infuriating.
I should’ve moved on. Should’ve been thankful for the help in the alley, and not blown up whatever the guy had going on. I owed him that much at least. But being ignored — that just didn’t gel with me. It wasn’t my thing.
“Hey,” I said, grabbing the barkeep. “Send them some shots also.”
When the shots showed up they drank those too, toasting each other like they’d ordered them themselves. As far as the girl knew, maybe they had. She seemed nice enough, but totally oblivious.
He however, knew exactly what he was doing.
It turned into sort of a game: me staring hard at the guy who’d saved me in the alley, so much I thought he might burst into flames. And him doing his best to ignore me. So far he was winning. And I really, really hated to lose.
I decided the change tactics. I wanted patiently until the girl put her drink down on the bar. Then, as she worked to tie her hair back with a headband, I balled my right hand into a fist…
…and unclenched it by flicking my fingers outward, rapidly.
The glass sailed into her lap, splashing her drink everywhere. She jumped back in surprise, leaping from her bar stool, wiping with both hands at her chest.
That’s when the guy from the ally finally looked at me.
It wasn’t a dirty look, but it wasn’t a good one either. There was curiosity there, but also something else. It was almost a look of… well… of knowing.
That part made me uncomfortable. Here I was, screwing around when I ought to be laying low. Making a scene instead of melting into the crowd.
Getting worked up instead of relaxing. The little voice inside my head was relentless. Causing trouble when I really should be avoiding it…
The brunette left for the restroom, presumably to clean up. Her would-be suitor glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was gone, then stood up and made his way over to me.
He took the stool next to mine, turning right in to face me. His leg was touching my leg. His eyes — sky blue and every bit as beautiful as he was — locked onto my own.
“So…”
It was all he said. He dragged the word out, letting it trail off into nothing.
“So…” I went right back at him.
Verbally we were at a stalemate, but not at all when it came to body language. The pretty boy from the alley was definitely leaning into me, his hand practically brushing the outside of my thigh. His looks got even better up close. He had high cheekbones and smooth, unblemished skin. Full, soft-looking lips that made for a very kissable mouth.
“Where I come from,” I said matter-of-factly, “the men buy the women drinks. And not the other way around.”
He had an elbow on the bar now, his blonde hair pinned over one ear. It shimmered like corn silk. It looked too good to be real.
“And where I come from,” he said in a perfect American accent, “when someone owes you one, you usually pay up.”
My mouth almost went tight. I stopped it just in time.
“Oh? Is that right?”
“Sure is.”
He didn’t have a New York accent like mine, or one from anywhere in New England. It wasn’t southern either. Midwest maybe? Further out?
“And what makes you think—”
“Because I saved your ass in that alley,” my hero jumped in. He leaned in closer. “Who were those guys, by the way? Did you know them?”
He studied my expression, waiting on my answer. Waiting to see if I lied or not. That part was interesting.
“No,” I said, telling the truth. “No idea.”
He kept staring at me like he was trying to crack a safe. Or learn something. Maybe figure something out.
“So what were you doing out there?”
I drained the rest of my beer. “Running?”
“Really fucking fast too,” he added. He seemed impressed.
I shrugged, and he raised one hand and called for another round. As the bartender began pouring, I glanced over his shoulder. The brunette with glasses had finally come out of the bathroom. She looked for him, but only for a moment, then wandered back into a small circle of people.
“What about your girl back there?” I asked. “Isn’t she gonna be pissed that you’re over here talking to me?”
“Who, Claire?” He didn’t even look back. “She’s a friend, that’s all.”
“A friend, that’s all?” I repeated.
“Yup.”
It occurred to me he hadn’t looked away. His eyes were on mine still, his pale blue irises diving into my brown. As stupid as it sounded, I felt my heart beating faster. I was feeling a lot warmer, too.
“Sorry about your jacket,” I said, so I could shift my gaze legitimately onto his body. His shoulders really were amazing.
“Not a big deal.”
“And you’re right,” I finally admitted. “You did save my ass. I do owe you one.”
I allowed myself a smile and he smiled back, causing my stomach to do a somersault. That was it for me. The cherry on the top of the sundae. He didn’t just smile with his face, but with his whole spirit, all at once.
“It’s too nice an ass not to save,” he quipped, actually glancing down at my ass.
He looked back at me and the music stopped. The chatter, the clinking of glasses — everything around us was just gone. It was like time itself ground to a screeching halt, taking the whole bar with it.
“I’m Serena,” I said, extending one hand.
He ignored my hand. Still smiling, he responded by tilting my chin gently upward and pressing his lips against mine. I didn’t hesitate for an instant to kiss him back. Sparks flew, my face going flush as it felt like all the blood in my body rushed into my cheeks, all at once.
Holy shit.
My mind spun away wildly, taking every last thought along with it. All that existed was his hand against my face, soft yet firm, his tongue sexy and confident as it swept past my lips and swirled against my own. His mouth was sweet. Everything between us full of electricity, and passion, and promise.
“I’m Damien,” he said finally, as we broke apart.
3
SERENA
We sat nested together for a minute or two longer, making small talk. Pretending we didn’t just have the best first kiss of all time. Damien’s leg was between my knees now and I was rubbing it against mine. Squeezing it intentionally on occasion, trapping it between my thighs.
For the first time in ages I was actually nervous. Like someone had opened me up and poured a whole flock of butterflies directly into my stomach. All of this was new to me, and totally out of character.
I found that I didn’t care.
“You got a place, Damien?”
“Of course.”
I took a long, deep breath. “Is it around here?”
“Walking distance, actually.”
“Let’s go.”
It had occurred to me, sometime between drinks two and three, that going back to the hotel tonight would be cataclysmically stupid. Going back at all might be stupid, especially if those guys who’d chased me had been a little bit more than just muggers.
And I strongly suspected they were.
In truth though, the whole thing was just a convenient excuse to go home with Damien. Not that I needed an excuse, but one always helped.
We held hands along the way, and his fingers felt like they interlaced perfectly with mine. There was a chill in the air. I found myself snuggling into him. The whole thing felt natural, like we’d known each other for weeks instead of minutes. An inexplicably strong connection I was prepared to roll with, rather than analyze.
You sure you’re okay with this?
No sooner had the door closed than we were kissing again, our bodies melding against one another in the silence of the foyer. We devoured each other, making out like teenagers on the way to his bedroom. Our hands moved irrespective of our lips, twenty eager fingertips exploring the exciting new frontier of each other’s bodies.
His bedroom was small but functional. There were two piles of laundry, one clean one dirty, and thankfully, a cozy-looking queen-sized bed. Shit, it was even made.
“You’re American obviously,” I murmured, still kissing him as my hands traveled down his big arms. “West Coast?”
He flexed his hands upward, to hold my face. His biceps were hard as rocks.
“California.”
I laughed into his mouth. “That’s funny, I had you pegged for a surfer.”
He shoved me backward, onto the bed. So abruptly I bounced.
“I am a surfer.”
He smiled that incredible smile, then pulled his shirt up and over his head. I literally gasped as his chest came into view. It was beautifully cut in every direction, two perfect pectorals above a set of washboard, six-pack abdominals.
And he had that ‘V’ I liked so much. The one that started just above the black strip of his Calvin Klein waistband… and ended somewhere below it.
He was looking at me now, sprawled across his bed like some prize he’d won and taken home. His eyes finally left mine, scanning downward. They paused at my heaving chest, and again at my midsection. Somewhere along our journey my jeans had been unbuttoned and my fly undone. We both looked down together, our eyes meeting at the lacy red edge of what would be revealed to be one of my favorite G-strings.
Thank God you wore cute panties…
There was a short pause as our eyes met again, his sapphire irises now burning with a strange inner fire. Without looking away, he began unbuckling his belt. It hung down on one side, obscenely reminiscent of something else.
“I want you,” he told me, his expression completely unapologetic.
His pants dropped to the floor and he stopped out of them. Peripherally, I could see the growing outline of the bulge between his legs as he climbed onto the bed.
Onto me.
“I’m yours,” I breathed, as his mouth went to my neck. I wanted him to know. I wanted there to be absolutely no doubt, no reservations at all. I needed this. Needed it more than I probably ever needed it before. More than—
“Mmmmm…”
He hands were on my hips now, yanking my jeans off. I kicked them to the floor as his tongue continued tracing downward. His knee went between my legs and I writhed against it, just as he began chewing deliciously on my shoulder.
“God,” he growled… and it was definitely a growl. “You smell so fucking good…”
He was inhaling me. Breathing me in. I could feel the air from his nostrils as they flared hard against my skin. And beneath it my heart, beating. Pounding now. His mouth… hovering like a vampire over my neck. Brushing against the heated rush of blood, just beyond.
He kissed his way up again. Took my lips with his.
I gasped sharply as a hand found its way between my legs. It slipped downward, piercing the hymen of my waistband, sliding flat against my stomach. I gasped again as I felt his palm pressing into my clitoris. His fingertips, gliding down through my slit, found me already drenched.
“You’re beautiful,” he told me, though he really didn’t have to. He already had me, totally and completely. “Absolutely stunning.”
Though I was more than happy with my looks, no one had ever called me stunning. That one word — but mostly the way he said it — sent an electric shiver rocketing along the entire length of my body.
His eyes were closed as he kissed me, but mine were still open. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop looking at him. Up close his boyish looks dissolved into sharper, more masculine features. I loved his thick, heavy brows. The way his full lips churned softly against mine.
“Oh Fuck…”
Down between my legs, his sun-bronzed hand was working two long fingers in and out of my pussy. Already they were glistening. He noticed me looking, and one corner of his mouth curled into a sly grin. Before I knew it he was holding those fingers before me, pushing them past my lips and slowly into my mouth…
It was by far the hottest thing anyone had ever done to me.
The taste was tangy and sweet. I found myself running my tongue along the length of his fingers and between them, making love to them with my mouth. I did it slowly, looking into his eyes, sucking hard on them as if they were his cock. Which reminded me…
Damien’s eyes flared as I reached down and located his bulge. It was thick and impressive. In no time I had it out, running it through my hand. Marveling at how it could be so soft yet so hard at the same time.
All of a sudden I wanted it in my mouth.
It wasn’t easy, pulling myself away from his talented fingers, but somehow I managed. I rolled him onto his back then slid down his body, peppering his hard chest with kisses and dragging my tongue along his taut, surfer’s stomach. He smelled like leather and sweat and… something else. Something more primal and mysterious, but equally delicious.
“Mmmmm…”
He groaned again as I pressed my face between his legs, inhaling his warmth. Close up, his cock was just as beautiful as he was. I took my time with it, rubbing it against the side of my face, savoring the feel of the silky head against my lips. I was teasing him yes, but probably not as much as I was teasing myself.
It’s been a while.
I wanted to remember this moment. To store it away for later, so I could remind myself of what I’d been missing.
Too long…
Around then I noticed him staring down at me, watching me in fascination. With a wink and a grin, I swallowed him whole.
It was like riding a bicycle all over again.
Damien sifted his hands through my hair as I proceeded to blow him. My lips — still wet from all the kissing and finger sucking — traveled easily up and down the length of his cock. I pulled down with one hand. Cupped his heavy balls with the other. I sucked him hard, stopping now and then to lick up and down along his shaft and make eye contact the whole way.
I was putting on a real show of it. I didn’t even know why.
He’s just a stranger, not a boyfriend.
It didn’t make sense. I could’ve just taken what I wanted — I’d always done so before. For some reason though, I felt the pressing need to make it good for him. To enforce the connection I felt, or rather, we felt, because somehow I knew he felt it too.
The hands tangled in my hair rolled into fists. For a split-second I thought I’d gone too far, that maybe he was about to come.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Damien reached down and pulled me back to him, face to face. There was blue fire in his eyes again. I’d seen lust before, but this was way beyond anything I’d ever experienced. This was something else.
I saw his jaw go tight as he completely took over. Damien rolled me onto my back with hands that seemed impossibly strong. He grabbed me roughly. Pulled me to him. Kneed my thighs apart, spreading my legs wide with the weight of his body…
I bit my lip as he pulled my panties to one side. Sucked in a sharp breath, as I felt him pressed snugly against my warm entrance.
He didn’t utter a word. That part was sexy. All he did was lock eyes with me as he thrust himself forward, pinning me with his gaze as he buried the full length of his manhood inside me.
“Ohhhhhhhh…”
It was unimaginably good, being filled again after all this time. Being stretched out like this, so utterly and completely full. Damien — even the name was now driving me wild — started fucking me straight away with lon
g, deep strokes. Plowing me into the bed as he drove his thick cock so achingly deep, in and out of my desperate pussy.
My eyes fluttered open, and I couldn’t not stare. His whole body was flexed tight, those beautiful abdominals rolling in unison as he pumped forward and back between my legs. I hooked my ankles behind him, drawing him in. Watched his beautiful surfer’s skin stretch over his ribs as the muscles in his back contracted to accommodate me.
“Fuck me…”
I mouthed the words, unsure of whether he’d heard. The next thing I knew his lips were mashed against mine, kissing me so hard our teeth clacked together as he crushed his chest against the warmth of my heavy breasts.
“Oh God… just fuck me…”
I was too far gone. Totally lost in him. I wanted him in me forever, just drilling away, filling me from within until I passed out from the pleasure.
As if sensing this he broke the kiss and fucked me even harder. The whole bed began to shake violently. It threatened to come apart at the frame as I held on for dear life.
This… This is…
I couldn’t form a complete sentence in my mind. Not even a half-coherent thought.
Oh God, I missed this…
Something wet touched the side of my face, and I realized a tear had streaked its way down my cheek. I was crying. Without even knowing it I was actually crying. They were tears of joy, of course. An unwitting byproduct of absolute ecstasy.
My hands found his ass, round and tight. I could feel the hard muscles just under the skin, churning beneath my palms as he dug me out. Moving like a machine. A wondrous, wondrous machine.
“Damn you feel good…” he groaned in my neck.
I curled my fingers into claws as he screwed even deeper into me, grinding his pelvis against me at the end of every thrust. By now my climax was a bygone conclusion. I could feel it rising inside me like a magnificent, inexorable wave.
And just like a real wave, it was probably going to soak his bed.
“Oh shit oh shit oh shit…”
I was whimpering softly. Crying into his shoulder like a little girl. Half of me felt foolish at making noise, the other half wanted to chew his shoulder off. My nails were probably embedded in the flesh of his ass by now. Maybe even drawing blood.
