by Connor, Anne
I suck in a sharp breath and turn on my heels to make my way out of my bedroom and into the kitchen.
Drew is searching my cabinets, opening each one and peeking inside. He doesn’t have to stand on his toes to reach like I do, but the edge of his shirt does ride up a little, exposing some bare, tanned skin on his lower back.
He finally checks the last cabinet and turns to face me.
“I guess I’m going to have to go grocery shopping for you. You need a fully-stocked kitchen. We need to have you nice and fed.”
“I’m perfectly fine, thank you.” I sit down at one of the stools at the counter facing into the kitchen. “I think there’s a granola bar in one of those drawers.”
He checks a drawer and pulls out its contents.
“This?” he asks, holding a metal spatula up.
“Try and eat that, and see what happens,” I say, hopping off the stool and walking over to grab the spatula from him.
“No time to go food shopping, I guess,” he says, putting the utensil back in the drawer and pushing it shut with his hip.
He leans back against the counter and puts his hands on my hips, pulling me close.
I guess I’ll have to go with options one or two. I’m just not so sure yet which one it’s going to be.
He slips his thumbs against my stomach as he squeezes me around the waist, pulling me closer to him. I recognize his cologne from the makeup store I like to go to. Sometimes I check the mens’ fragrances section and pick out the most expensive bottles just to sample them. I used to think it was crazy that someone would spend over two hundred dollars on a few ounces of a scented liquid, but in his arms, now I can see why he would.
But it’s not just the cologne that I can smell on him. It’s also the freshness of the evening, the dewy night time air coming through the window. He’s part of the atmosphere, and it’s like he belongs here as much as I do, even though I know he’s going to leave, one way or the other.
“So when I asked you in the bar whether you have a boyfriend or not, you really weren’t lying when you said you didn’t?” he asks, pushing my hair behind my shoulders and gathering it at the nape of my neck.
“No,” I say, looking up into his green eyes. “Why would I lie about something like that?”
“I don’t think you would. It’s just crazy that some guy hasn’t already scooped you up. But I’m glad.” He puts his lips to my ear and whispers. “I have some things in mind for you. When I saw that gorgeous little mouth of yours, I knew I needed it.”
I feel my knees get weak and I’m glad Drew is strong enough to hold me up without even noticing that I would fall down without him to grab onto.
His hands make their way to my ass, and he grazes them over my backside.
“What did you need, exactly?” I ask.
“I think you know what I needed. That I needed to kiss it. I needed to kiss you,” he says, scooping my ass into his hands and giving it a squeeze.
“You’ve done that, Drew,” I reply breathlessly, standing on my tip-toes with my arms thrown around his shoulders.
“So you know that’s not the only thing I want to do with that mouth, then,” he said, drawing his lips close to mine and taking them with his.
He tastes like spearmint and craft beer, and his chest moves slowly and steadily against mine, his breathing taking on the same even tempo as it did earlier.
I can feel his heartbeat in his chest through his skin and his thin shirt, and as he picks me up and spins me around to sit me on the kitchen counter, my mind spins with the room. The heat between my legs is unbearable, and as his lips and tongue crush mine and he spreads my legs apart so he can stand against me, I feel a hand slip up my dress and into my bra.
“I can’t wait to get you down on your knees. That pretty little mouth is all mine now, babe.”
I’ve never had someone talk to me like this before. The hot sensation between my legs has me squirming in his arms.
His tongue slips over mine and his fingers wrap around to my back to unclasp my bra. He frees my breasts from my bra in two seconds flat, and I wonder how many bras he’s unclasped in his day.
Now I really have a decision to make, but it’s like his tongue is making my brain unable to operate.
“Your body is fucking unbelievable,” he says, taking his mouth away from mine for a moment and growling into my ear.
This is the real Drew Anderson. I’m not sure whether I expected something different. Now I really have to make a choice. Options one and two are still open to me. Obviously, option three, kicking him out, is no longer a possibility. I guess I could still tell him to stop, push him away, send him to wherever it is in the building that he’s staying, and pretend to not see him around, but like I said before - that would be rude, and I certainly was not raised to be rude.
Option two seems to be flying out the window by the second, too. Date this guy? The guy who soaked my panties with just a light kiss on the lips isn’t any guy I would be able to date, and I’m starting to realize that maybe I am just a conquest for him. I don’t want to think it, but there’s no way a guy who kisses like this and says he wants me on my knees - and of course I know what for! - would really want to take me out on a second date and then back to his mom’s house like he said.
So by process of elimination, it seems that all I am left with is option one.
A fling. It’s already a fling, I think, and it seems that the first option chose me, and not the other way around.
I can’t think straight, and I make the conscious decision to close my eyes and let myself get swept away by Drew. Or is it a conscious decision? I feel completely out of control of my own body as he picks me up again and starts to bring me toward the hallway to my bedroom. I wrap my legs around him, and I’m afraid he can feel how wet I am already. It’s embarrassing, almost, the fact that this guy has had this effect on my body so quickly.
“I think you’re going the wrong way,” I say, pulling my mouth away from him.
His mouth contorts into a wicked grin.
“What do you mean? You wanted me to fuck you right there in the kitchen? I can do that. Floor or counter?”
“No, no. I mean, I think reruns are about to start. You gotta bring me back into the living room so I can watch my shows.”
“Fuck that,” he says, putting me down and opening the door to my bedroom. “I have more than enough entertainment for you in here. You’re going to be begging for me to come over to replace your 90s sitcoms.”
“Really? You think you’re funny?” I straighten my dress out and shift my feet around, unsure of what to do. My bra is in Drew’s hands, and he turns it over, examining the lacy pink and orange fabric.
“This is pretty,” he says. “Do the panties match?”
I don’t say anything. I involuntarily suck my bottom lip between my teeth and nibble. My clit does a little jump as he walks toward me.
“Let me see,” he says, picking me up by the waist again and placing me down on the bed. I lay back and see, clearly, I am firmly within option one territory.
He puts his hands on my legs and runs them up to my thighs, hooking his fingers onto each side of my panties and pulling them down. I lift my butt a little so he can grab them. I’ve never let a guy like this do this to me before, and it’s thrilling. Any doubt I had in my mind has been replaced with clarity.
I can do this. It’s just a fling. It is not a big deal. It’s just sex between two adults. Two normal, regular, average adults.
Except that Drew is far from average.
“This what you wanted?” I ask, kneeling on the bed with my feet tucked under me.
“Exactly,” he says as I reach for the zipper on his jeans and yank it down with a quick tug.
So, I thought he would either be a well-endowed sex god with a body made for sin, or a regular guy in the sack with a big mouth but without the size to back it up.
It seems that between those two possibilities, I am left with option one again.
>
I guess there was a reason for all those girls to throw themselves at him before he was engaged. It seems that on his island, good news really travels.
But I remind myself that this is not really for me. That it’s just temporary.
That’s what I tell myself so I won’t get hurt.
I pull him out of his pants and look up into his eyes. His gaze is soft and hard all at the same time, and I’m unsure of what to do.
“Put your pretty little mouth on it, babe,” he says.
I guess that settles it.
I bring him into my mouth, taking his length all the way into my throat. He’s bigger than any of the other few guys I’ve been with, and it’s a struggle to take him in all the way.
“God, that’s so fucking good, Molly,” he says, pushing me away and grabbing my ankles.
I let out a gasp and a laugh.
“What are you doing?”
“Wait and see, baby,” he says, pushing my knees up and kissing me between my legs.
I let out a low, long moan and he licks from the top of my clit all the way down to my opening. His fingers search my body expertly, sinking past my folds and massaging me deep inside.
“You taste so good. You’re better than anything,” he says, taking his mouth away from my pussy and kissing the insides of my thighs. He wraps his hands around my ankles and holds my legs open, exposing me for him. His tongue swirls around my clit, my pussy hotter than it’s ever felt.
He lets go of my ankles and positions himself between my legs, pulling a condom out of his back pocket and sheathing himself, rolling it down to the base quickly.
“Do you always have a condom with you?”
“Do you want me to always have a condom with me?”
“I’m not sure,” I say.
His arms make a cage around my face, his hands propping himself up above me.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I reach down and take Drew into my hands, guiding him between my legs. His dick reaches my opening, and slips into me easily, rocking and moving inside me as his chest heaves above mine.
Any ounce of tameness and restraint he showed before has now flown out the window with any sense of propriety I possessed.
He pulls away from me and flips me over onto my stomach, placing a firm hand down on my ass.
The heat inside me radiated from my stomach and into my limbs, and the fear I felt just moments ago is melting out of my body.
“What the hell was that?” I yelp, looking back at his face, his signature grin growing across his face and his eyes sparkling.
“You’re just so spankable. You think that cute little ass isn’t going to be spanked?”
I wiggle it in response and giggle, but I what I really want to do is bury my face in a pillow. I don’t understand how it’s possible that he is doing this to me, and how good it feels. It’s freeing.
He flips me over again, onto my back, and teases my opening with the tip of his dick.
“Come for me, Molly. I need this from you.”
He drags his dick across my clit before sinking into me once again.
“Drew, I can’t believe this happening.”
I don’t want to show him all of what I’m feeling, and I’m just happy something more didn’t slip out.
Like, Drew, you’re the hottest guy I’ve ever met.
Drew, I know you’re bad for me and I don’t know if I can trust you. I don’t do cocky guys. I don’t do arrogant. You’re going to grow bored of the simple girl from Brooklyn.
Drew, your dick feels incredible inside me.
I’d never let that last statement just slip out. I’d be utterly mortified if I ever said anything like that.
“I just can’t believe you didn’t let me fuck you on the first night we met,” he says, pushing himself deeper inside me.
“Is that really the kind of girl you think I am?”
“No. Not at all.” He grins and pushes my hair away from my forehead. I run my hands up and down his chest, his chiseled body moving above me and inside me like nothing I’ve felt before. He’s so deep, so hard, so big.
“I don’t think you’re that kind of girl,” he adds. “But I’m that kind of guy.”
“Too many one night stands for Drew Anderson, huh?”
“Not too many,” he says. “Come for me, Molly. I told you to. Come all over my cock. Your juices feel so good.”
His mouth collides with mine as my eyes grip shut tightly, my vision turning black and then white as my body writhes beneath him in pleasure. It’s too much to stand any longer, and I feel my body rising with pleasure as he works it with exquisite expertise.
He groans as he explodes inside me, rocking his hips back and forth between my legs as he comes.
I come down from what just happened, panting and smiling like a crazy person. Maybe option one wasn’t such a bad idea.
I know what I know about Drew. There won’t be any surprises. Even if I never see him after today, it’s fine.
Anyone who can make my body feel like he does deserves a chance.
18. Drew
I’m on cloud fucking nine as I leave Molly’s apartment.
She’s incredible. She’s funny, smart, gorgeous, and self-assured. After what just happened, I’m no longer surprised it took this long for us to screw. She’s not like any of the try-hard girls who just want a taste of the fame and want their picture to be taken. They want to get in the paper, heaven only fucking knows why.
I’m okay with being in the paper and on the blogs. It’s fine. But it’s not something I would seek out. In fact, I’m starting to think it’s getting a little bit old.
That’s not what Molly wants. She dodged it. The fact of my wealth and reputation was an immediate turn-off for her. I could see it. Most of the time, the girls in that bar would do anything with any guy with my level of status.
Again - not that there’s anything wrong with that. But after Clarissa?
Molly is exactly what I need.
No, fuck that. She’s what I need in my life because she’s as gorgeous as she is smart, motivated and driven.
There is no fucking comparison between her and any other girl. She’s in another category.
Molly looks for the real me. Maybe it took her a little bit longer than I wanted for her to warm up to me, but now that she really sees me for who I am, I’m going to show her my best.
She’s already shown me her best - that’s her default setting. She’s the best without even having to try. She’s real. She doesn’t have to switch the way she acts, ever.
I think she and I have that in common.
She gives it to you straight.
Fuck, she’s good. Beautiful. Perfect.
I’m nearly whistling as I make my way down to the apartment where I’m staying. I hear the voices of a few men, and they’re talking shop. I stay on the landing I’m on so I can get a better read on what they’re discussing. All I can make out over my thoughts is a cloud of random words. I lean against the wall on the landing above them and peek over.
It’s Lee and a few other guys from his firm. It’s bizarre, seeing them here. It’s like seeing a fucking polar bear on the moon.
Or something. I’m not the writer. Molly is the writer.
Whatever it looks like, it looks weird. But I know immediately why they’re here. There’s really only one reason why a bunch of random finance dudes in Gucci loafers would be in this neighborhood. This is their stupid idea of dressed-down. Gucci loafers. Unbelievable.
I’m at least wearing my Varvatos boots. I blend in. I don’t stick out like a sore thumb like these guys.
These guys. They’re here because they want to buy the building. It’s so obvious. It’s in a good neighborhood, up-and-coming, and I don’t need to pull the comps for the area to know that the market can bear rents two or three times higher than what I’m sure the tenants here are paying. Rich is a good guy, and I’m sure he knows what the fate of the building will be if he sells.
<
br /> If he’s anything like Mom, he doesn’t want that for the building. If he’s anything like Mom, he wants a place where people can call home. Not a place where some dickheads can knock down a few walls and pour in some money and make a profit on the place over a short term period.
He doesn’t want the building to be a quick investment. I already know that. It would change everything about the place.
I just had no idea Lee was interested in taking his firm in this direction.
Maybe they’re trying to diversify a little. Nothing wrong with that.
I’m sure Rich has had offers before. And he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would gather multiple offers and try to leverage the best deal for himself. He’s a guy who likes being an owner. The fact that he stays here a few nights a week is proof.
We could put an elevator in, make the top two floors a duplex penthouse.
Okay, now I have absolute fucking confirmation of what these guys want to do.
I wonder if Molly knows. She’s relatively new to the building and might not know what’s going on here.
The guys on the floor below me continue down the stairs and make their way through the front door and the storm door, letting it slam shut behind them. I continue down to stairs to the cellar now that the coast is clear.
The absolute last thing I need right now is Lee knowing where I am. I’m staying here to get away from everything. Not to get more involved in something that doesn’t concern me.
I flop down onto the pull-out couch in Rich’s apartment and check my phone. I have 40 unread emails, twice as many texts, and half as many missed calls.
Of course, most of them are from Eric, so I call him back.
“Good god, man. Where the hell have you been?” he barks.
“You mean Mom didn’t tell you? Sarah didn’t say something at the office today?”
“Yeah, Sarah told me you lost your damn mind and decided to take a little vacation.”
“I highly, highly doubt Sarah said that about me. She’s loyal. She supports me in my decisions. Which is more than I can say about you right now.”
