Unzipped (Swallow Me Whole Book 1)

by Angel Allen

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Title page

  Don't miss out!

  Blurb

  Note to readers

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Thanks for reading!

  About Angel Allen

  Contents

  Copyright

  Title page

  Don't miss out!

  Blurb

  Note to readers

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Thanks for reading!

  About Angel Allen

  Unzipped

  Copyright © 2017 Angel Allen

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  DON’T MISS OUT!

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  SADIE

  After catching my boyfriend cheating, I chase the heartache away at a club with my best friend and her brother, Ashton.

  But Ashton and alcohol don’t mix, because I never expected to find myself under the table with his zipper unzipped.

  And my mouth in places it shouldn’t be.

  Now he wants an explanation, but when he finds out how inexperienced I am, he gives me a proposition I can’t refuse.

  ASHTON

  Sweet, inexperienced Sadie wants to learn how to blow a guy.

  And she’s blowing me all the way into next Sunday, because I’m doing the one thing I thought I’d never do. I’m showing her who I really am.

  But can she handle a guy like me?

  Sadie is about to learn more than the art of giving head—she’s about to discover that when it comes to the bedroom, I call the shots.

  NOTE TO READERS

  UNZIPPED is the first installment in the Swallow Me Whole series.

  Chapter One

  Sadie

  Moaning. It’s the first thing that blasts my ears as I approach his office. My knuckles whiten as I grip the basket I’m carrying. It’s late, and this visit is supposed to be a surprise.

  Maybe I’m the one in for a surprise.

  I stall outside his door, and there’s no doubt at what I’m hearing. Releasing a soundless breath, I feel my shoulders sag, same as my spirit. God, I feel like a fucking cliché right now—the clueless girlfriend catching her cheating boyfriend at the office late at night. It doesn’t help that I have that wholesome girl-next-door appearance bullshit to go along with the overdone trope.

  I’m a mere five feet and three inches tall, and my thick red hair doesn’t know the first thing about behaving. Don’t even get me started on the freckles smattering my nose and cheeks. I’m told my freckles are adorable, sexy even, but I’m sure the people who said it over the years are full of shit. Especially now, considering the escalated moans coming through the door of Jake’s office. I bet whoever she is, she doesn’t have freckles.

  Adorable doesn’t get a girl anywhere with someone like Jake Jennings. He is the epitome of mature and successful. Classic good looks, with blond hair that’s never out of place. Strong, square jaw and broad shoulders. The man favors expensive suits, and he wears them well.

  Being several years younger than Jake, dating him made me feel grown up. My parents approved—how could they not, considering Jake is on the fast track to becoming a junior partner at my father’s law firm.

  Sounds like he’s on the fast track to getting laid as well.

  Betrayal rises in my chest, and I clutch the bodice of my little black dress. It’s the slime ball’s birthday, and he begged off from celebrating tonight, claiming he had to pull an all-nighter on the case my dad’s had him working on. So I decided to surprise him with a homemade dinner I prepared for the occasion, hoping I could coax him into taking a break.

  I’d hoped to take our relationship to the next level by giving him what he’s wanted for weeks.

  A blow job. Maybe even my fucking V card.

  God, I’m so stupid.

  My best friend warned me about him from the get-go.

  He’s got the douchebag vibe going on.

  How can you tell?

  It’s in the eyes, Sadie. He’s a smug bastard who thinks he’s better than everyone else.

  Guess she was right, but stupid little me didn’t want to hear it. A single glance in his direction shattered my brain cells and drenched my panties, and I followed his come-hither smile like a cat on the scent of dinner scraps.

  “Yes! Oh God, fuck yes, Jake. Your tongue…right fucking there.”

  A warm tingle travels down my spine, which is interesting because I’m angry as hell.

  Turn away. You don’t want to see this.

  My hand stalls halfway to the knob. He left the door ajar—no point in worrying about privacy when everyone in the office has already gone home for the day. One soundless push of that door, and I’ll see for myself that Jake Jennings is scum.

  Another moan fractures the air.

  No, he’s the grime that lines the tiles in my shower, the mud caking the soles of my sneakers from our hike last weekend. The memory of our time together sucker punches me. I draw in even breaths through my nose, trying to remain silent as tears burn my eyes. The weather’s been mild for fall, and we took advantage by getting outside for a few hours. Things got heavy up on that deserted hillside. His hands explored every inch of me, yet the day ended with a preamble of what was to come.

  I should have known.

  He’d wanted more, but when it came time to reciprocate, I ended up freezing with uncertainty. And that’s how it always goes with me. I’ve had more than a couple of boyfriends take off over the past few years because I wasn’t willing to put out.

  But Jake said he was different. He said he’d wait until I was ready. He even claimed he wasn’t angry last weekend, but the deafening disquiet between us on the long trek back to his car was the first sign that something was wrong. Our weeks of dates, flirty texts, and smoldering looks at the office was about to get complicated. I’d known it, felt it, because this wasn’t the first time I’d put the brakes on when he was ready to go full throttle.

  For days I chewed over my insecurities before coming to the conclusion that I needed to step up my game. He’s a man with needs, and knowing it’s beyond time to move past my fear of taking the next step, I wanted to give him the most special birthday gift I could.

  Guess he decided to get it from someone else.

  “Get on your knees,” he groans.

  I slap a hand over my trembling lips to keep from making a sound. Careful not to give away my presence, I set the picnic basket of baked chicken and rice pilaf on the floor then wedge the door open a crack. My heart pounds in my throat as I peer into his office, despite the roaring voice in my head shouting to just walk the fuck away.

  Now, Sadie. Walk. The. Fuck. Away.

  But I can’t. My gaze fastens on the lithe blonde sinking to her knees in front of him. She’s his bimbo legal assistant—someone I’ve never liked—whic
h makes this even worse in the cliché department. Wearing nothing but a pair of heels and a wide grin, she curls her fingers around his jutting erection. His slacks puddle around his ankles, and his cock…Jesus, it’s huge and ready and already dripping onto her double D’s.

  I wipe the moisture from my eyes with quick, angry movements. I’m angry at him, and angry at myself for being incapable of looking away as she parts her lips and sucks his entire length into her mouth. He’s fisting her tousled hair as his hips move so fast that I can’t help but wonder if he’s choking her.

  I kind of hope he is.

  She purrs around his shaft, making him throw his head back, and a guttural moan escapes his gaping mouth. “You take my cock like a whore every fucking time.” He yanks her head back, seating the tip between her damp lips. “You want to swallow every drop, don’t you?”

  “Mmm-hmmm,” she moans, sliding her lips down his shaft again.

  As I watch them, I question the very basis of my being, wading through the various conflicting emotions roiling through me. Anger, betrayal, and admittedly, fascination because I want to be the one on my knees.

  What would it be like to have a man at my mercy like that, to have the confidence to give head like a whore and enjoy every moment of it, even as he shoots his release down my throat? Would our eyes lock on each other the whole time? Would the lustful glint is his eyes give me a sense of empowerment?

  I should feel more upset at finding my boyfriend with his dick in someone else’s mouth. Not to say that I’m not a little broken by his betrayal.

  But what I really am is curious.

  Confused.

  Ashamed.

  Hurt.

  Yeah, definitely hurt. If he’d given me a little more time, not to mention some damn respect, it could have been me on my knees. I would have given him what he wanted. Could have given him what I wanted.

  Eventually, after the red haze of shock and hurt wanes, I know I’ll be glad I didn’t get on my knees for him, because he doesn’t deserve it. And he sure as hell doesn’t deserve my V card. This asshole doesn’t deserve shit from me, least of all another second of my time.

  Leaving the picnic basket on the floor, I whirl with silent footsteps and creep out the way I came. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t hold on to the anger long enough to drown out the hurt. Hot drops of humiliation drip down my cheeks as I jab the button for the elevator.

  Determined to get my shit together before I arrive on the first floor, I dry my eyes. Holding the tears back isn’t easy, but I’m young, pretty according to some, and dressed up on a Friday night. No way am I going to waste it by crying over a loser like Jake.

  Chapter Two

  Sadie

  “You better slow down there, Sadie.”

  Ashton Levine, with his caring eyes—the kind of eyes that put puppy dogs to shame—attempts to commandeer my sixth…maybe seventh shot? Before his grabby hands slide it out of reach, I toss it back. My eyeballs water as it burns down my esophagus like the last five rounds of tequila did.

  Wait. Is it five or eight? Shit, maybe Ash is right. I’ve lost count.

  “She’s messed up over something,” Amanda says. Mandy is my best friend. She’s also Ashton’s twin sister. The two of them cage me in, forcing me into the middle of the cozy circular booth the three of us are sharing. I’m a little annoyed because they keep throwing furtive glances toward each other. Worried glances.

  Probably because I called from Club Hoppin’ thirty minutes ago, bawling into the phone while camped out in a dirty stall in the women’s restroom. That’s where Amanda found me.

  “Ya think?” Ashton arches an incredulous dark brow at his sister. They’re always at each other’s throats, despite the two of them being closer than most friends. Maybe it’s a sibling thing…or a twin thing. I wouldn’t know since I’m an only child.

  I slam the empty shot glass onto the wood table and turn to Amanda, blinking several times until her porcelain complexion and sleek brown hair comes into focus. “Be a best friend and get me some fries?”

  With a sigh, she squeezes my shoulder. “I’m on it.” As she rises to her feet, she shoots a warning look at Ashton. “Don’t let her out of your sight. She never gets this fucking drunk.”

  “Got it covered,” he says, waving her off.

  As soon as Amanda is on the way to the bar, her tall, voluptuous figure lost in the crowd of sweaty bodies grinding on each other, I face Ashton. I prop one hand on his chest to keep from swaying into him. Damn, he’s built underneath the black T-shirt he’s wearing. Black seems to be his signature color, and it suits him because he could be the poster boy for dark, dangerous, and handsome. Next thing I know, I’m running a palm down his ripped abs.

  “Do you live in a gym or something?”

  “Jesus.” He removes my hand from his chest, but instead of letting go, he twines our fingers together. Holding hands is nothing new for us. We’ve done it for years. He’s the brother I never had.

  “You’re like a different person when you drink, Sawyer.”

  Smarting over his chiding tone—and his use of my last name—I give him a drunken glower and try to pull away. His grip tightens.

  “Wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asks, searching my face with his light blue eyes.

  At times, he’s the annoying-as-fuck guy who gets under my skin with his questions and opinions on how I should live my life. Now that I think about it, I can see why he and Mandy fight a lot, because he’s even worse with her.

  But one glance at the worry pinching his mouth soothes my ire. Ash has always cared about me, and for some strange reason, tonight his concern sends my heart into a fluttering dance. His fingers, still tangled with mine, cause the strangest, most exciting sensation ever, and a wave of heat breaks out on my skin. I haven’t felt this way since I was fourteen and had the biggest crush on him.

  Must be the alcohol screwing with my body’s chemistry.

  “You can talk to me,” he says, leaning closer with a mischievous quirk of his mouth. “I promise, I’ll keep my asshole tendencies to a minimum.”

  His cologne infuses my senses. I’ve always loved the way he smells—like pure testosterone mixed with a hint of the woods after it rains.

  “What if I said I wanted you to kiss me?” I have no filter tonight. For once in my life, I don’t give two fucks about what comes out of my mouth.

  His eyes widen before lowering to my lips, and as the whirl of music and people and voices around us blasts my ears, neither of us move. Maybe my brain is on slow-mo tonight due to the booze, because it takes me a few seconds before I realize he isn’t going to press his lips against mine. I’m not surprised, but it’s still disappointing. He lets go of my hand.

  Shit. Hot flames of humiliation lick my cheeks. Letting my hair curtain my face, I begin stacking the shot glasses on the table, my fingers trembling. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I’m buzzed.”

  Ash slides his arm along the back of the booth behind me, turning his body until his knees graze mine. “It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you,” he says, inching back my hair and tucking it behind my ear.

  “What is it, then?”

  His fingers slide under my chin, turning my head toward him. He’s much closer than he was a few seconds ago, making my breath stall in my lungs. Drawing his lower lip between his teeth, he watches me as his fingers brush my jaw in a hypnotic way that ignites searing heat between my thighs. I clench them without thinking.

  “You’re Amanda’s friend.”

  “She wouldn’t care.” A lie, because I’m pretty sure she’d flip out.

  “Okay, you’re my friend.”

  “I don’t care, Ash.” Apparently, I’m full of lies tonight.

  “I care.”

  “Oh.” I’ve got no reply to that. Needing some distance, I draw away by a few inches.

  “Sadie…” He springs into motion in the space of two seconds and thrusts his hands into my hair. He hovers at my ear, letting out s
hallow and uneven breaths. “You matter too much to me. You have to know that.”

  “I do,” I whisper with a shaky sigh. “You matter to me too.”

  Seconds tick past before he inches back, his facial hair grazing my cheek. His lips part as he meets my eyes. I hate that I have no idea what’s running through his head as he searches my face, his blue gaze darting between my eyes and mouth.

  “Hell, Sawyer. You couldn’t handle me.” And just like that, he pulls away. “You’re too damn sweet.”

  My spirit sinks to my toes. I’m the kind of sweet that doesn’t fall to her knees and suck a guy’s dick until he can’t think straight. The kind of sweet that guys cheat on because even though I want to do all sorts of dirty things, I’m too fucking inhibited to know how.

  I’m almost twenty-three-fucking-years old—the same as Ash and Mandy, who are light-years ahead of me when it comes to sex. But me? I must be the last virgin from our graduating class. How pathetic is that?

  Thanks to numerous shots of tequila, the familiar shackles of inhibition are nowhere to be found. I glance around the packed bar and spot Amanda entranced in conversation with a guy she’s been chasing for a couple of months. She works here three nights a week as a KJ, keeping Club Hoppin’ hopping with karaoke during the bar’s slower nights.

  But tonight is Friday, and everyone is busy chasing someone, or dancing, or too drunk to notice Ashton and me in the corner booth. Even the barmaid has forgotten us.

  Just do it flits through my mind. Before I allow myself the chance to chicken out, I disappear underneath the table and wedge my body between his legs.

  His sharp intake of breath spurs me on. “What the fuck are you doing, Sadie?”

  “Giving you a taste of how sweet I can be.” My fingers fumble with the button of his jeans for what seems like forever, giving him plenty of time to push me away.

  But he doesn’t.

  I lick my lips as I inch down his zipper. God, he’s free balling it. His long length springs free of the confines of his jeans. I had no idea he was hiding such a big cock behind that denim.