by Tasha Fawkes
"I—" I slammed my mouth closed again. There were a million things I wanted to say to Brin, a million words fighting to reach my tongue all at once. I hoped I would have all the time in the world to tell her each and every one of them, but for now, I condensed them into a single phrase.
"I love you."
Brin's face flushed with happiness. She threw herself at me, much like she had the first time we kissed, and pressed her mouth to mine.
"I love you too." Her lips caressed mine as she spoke. "I missed you."
"I missed you."
And then there were no more words. We fell back into the sand, pawing at each other with an urgency I'd never felt before. Each touch was laced with emotion and spoke just as openly as if we'd screamed the words to the darkening sky above.
Brin landed on top of me, straddling me with her dress hiked up around her thighs. I sunk my fingers into her soft flesh, holding her there as I ground up against her sex. My cock had missed her too, missed sex in general. All those times Lori had baited me, tried to tempt me, all I'd been able to think about was the taste of Brin's skin, the feel of our bodies sliding together, the way she moaned when I hit that perfect spot inside of her. Now that I had her again, I was never letting her go. I would lay my claim on every inch of her skin.
I tore down the straps of Brin's dress, pulling out her tits and palming them roughly. She moaned into my lips. I rolled her nipples between my fingers and felt them peak, then pushed her back so I could suck one pink bud into my mouth.
The sight of her on my lap, tits bared and nipples hard from my touch was almost enough to make me explode on sight. I buried my face in her chest, licking and sucking and squeezing as she writhed against my bulge.
There was nothing in the world that could compare to the pure, raw ecstasy of this. Of her. I sat up and leaned her back further, sucking on her exposed neck. She sighed and squirmed against me, lost in the moment. I slid a hand under her skirt and grabbed her ass, delighted to find it was just as ripe and firm as I remembered it.
Our bodies rocked together in a slow but smoldering dance of lust. I could have stayed like this all night, but the urge to sink my cock into her heat soon grew too much to ignore.
Like she'd read my thoughts, Brin's hand began to fumble with my zipper.
"I'm on the pill," she mumbled, eyes focused on the task. "And I mean, you're the only person I've slept with in like a year, so I'm all good that way if you are..."
I wasn't sure what she was talking about at first, but when it kicked in a fire lit in my belly. "I'm good," I confirmed.
I couldn't wait to fuck her bare, to feel her skin and her wetness. My cock stood stiffly when she wrangled it out of my jeans, swollen with need. I pulled her back down into a kiss and urged her ass up so I could pull aside the fabric of her panties. I found her slick with desire. She hummed against my mouth as I circled my fingers over her clit then dipped inside of her. God, I'd missed her pussy. It flexed tight around my fingers like a welcome back handshake. Between us, my cock throbbed with the need to enter her, but I ignored it for another minute while I continued to tease her with my fingers.
Brin panted against my mouth. Her moans became soft whimpers as I sawed my fingers in and out, coating them in her juices. Though we were still mostly dressed, any person walking by would know exactly what we were doing. Not that anyone would walk by. Still, I found the thought sexy, even though exhibitionism had never been my thing. I wanted the whole world to know she was mine, that I was the one who made her squirm and moan.
I pulled my fingers out and sucked them into my mouth to get a taste of her. She tasted divine. Without wasting any more time, I pulled her mouth back to mine and lined up my cock with her entrance.
Brin took the lead, sinking down on my meat until she sat flush against my hips. I had to squeeze my eyes shut and take in every last second of the experience, the way she gripped me, took me all in. There was no pleasure more intense.
Then Brin began to rock back and forth. She sat upright, her tits swaying in the light of the newly minted moon. I guided her hips and watched her. Her face was a masterpiece of pleasure, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and parted, half-lidded eyes dark but somehow sparking. She rode me with the same fluid sensuality she exuded on stage, hips rolling like waves. Watching her was part of the experience, part of what made sex with Brin the ultimate adventure. I'd never seen any other girl lose themselves in it so much before. Then again, I'd never seen a girl like Brin.
"You look fucking gorgeous," I told her.
Brin's lips quirked into a devious little half smile. "You don't look so bad yourself."
"I mean it, Brin. I've never seen anything as sexy as you riding my cock."
She swore under her breath and arched back. My words must have sent a bolt of pleasure through her. I quietly patted myself on the back.
I reached for her tits and mauled them as the pressure in my balls mounted. In response, she picked up the pace, now bouncing up and down. She undulated in my palms with the movement, and I threw my head back and groaned.
"I'm close," she whispered.
Fuck. I wasn't going to last long either at this rate. My cock had been waiting for this fuck, or rather hoping for it, and it was more than I could take.
I found her clit with my thumb and began to rub the delicate nub. She tossed her head back and moaned, hair trailing down her back, neck exposed. I couldn't resist. I sat up and bit into her neck as if I really could mark her for all to see. She grabbed onto my shoulders and held me tight, calling my name over and over again.
Brin came apart in my arms. Her pussy clenched me so hard I lost it, stilling against her as we exploded together. Every frustration, every angsty moment that had happened since she left seemed to drain into her, and I could almost feel her letting go of everything she'd gone through too. We were connected in a way I'd never connected with anyone, and nothing could have proved more that we were meant to be together than that moment of perfect, wordless understanding.
I held Brin even when my erection began to shrink. I wanted to hold her forever and I got the feeling she felt the same way. Her forehead fell against my shoulder, and she let out a panting breath.
"Wow," she said. "Did I forget how amazing that was or did we just actually transcend to another world?"
I laughed. "I think a bit of both."
"I'm never leaving you again. Threat or not." She stiffened, then looked up at me. "Fuck. I got so caught up the whole dramatic coming back here thing that I forgot to ask. If Martin's on his redemption tour, does that mean he told you what he did?"
"What he and Lori did," I corrected.
Brin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Lori was part of it?"
"Is that so hard to believe?" I deadpanned.
"I guess not. I still don't understand why he hates me so much though. I think he probably thought he was helping you somehow."
I sighed. "That, plus he and Lori were knocking boots behind my back."
"Yikes." Brin grimaced. "I'm so sorry, Chad. That must have hurt to find out."
"Not as much as it hurt to come back to the hotel and discover you were gone."
Brin's eyes filled with guilt but I shook my head, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "No, don't be like that. It wasn't your fault. And anyway, we're together now. That's all that matters, isn't it?"
She smiled, warmth radiating from her features. "We’re together?"
I nodded. “Indisputably.”
“What are we going to do?”
I didn’t know whether she meant in five minutes, five weeks, or five years, but my answer would have still been the same.
“Whatever we want to.”
Epilogue
Brin
One year later...
"Kim..."
My low, warning tone was still not enough to dissuade my best friend from continuing her vendetta. Against what, I wasn't sure. She just kept fiddling with the skirt of my dress, the beading, whatever
she could get her little fiddling hands on. It seemed like she was more nervous than I was, and I figured it must be the mountain air getting to her head.
Kim continued smoothing the fabric under my bodice, keeping her eyes low. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just—I just want this to be perfect."
"Geez," I said, rolling my eyes. "You'd think you were the one getting married today."
"Can you blame me for wanting my best friend's special day to be perfect?"
"Kim," I said, resting a hand on hers. Her gaze rose to meet mine. "It already is."
Hell, what day wasn't perfect when you traveled the world with the man you loved, having adventures and sucking the marrow from life? One of the best parts of today, ironically enough, was going to be spending time with my best friend, who I hadn't seen much in the past six months. Between my new modeling contract and Chad and I's constant traveling, I'd barely had time for everything to sink in. I had a feeling today would be another one of those moments, and I wouldn't realize that I was even married until a week from now when I caught a flash of my ring in the mirror or something like that.
Even though things were a little crazy, I was happy. So happy I could barely contain it at times.
I pulled Kim into a hug and squeezed. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Where even is here?" she joked. "I still don't understand why you chose this place to get married. Your nuptials will be the most exciting thing to happen here since the last goat stampede."
I laughed and released her, poking her nose. Kim would always be a Vegas girl, even if it was rough and tough at times. The more of the world I explored, the less I felt like returning to the place I'd once called home. Now I saw it for what it had been—a refuge. From my past, and from any semblance of a future too.
Sure, getting married in the Nepalese mountains with only some goats, a couple of locals, and Kim as witnesses wasn't the glamorous white wedding I pictured when I was a little girl, but that dream had been the kind you have before you figure out what you want in life. A pre-fab fantasy for those who haven't lived to find their genuine passion.
My true passions were springing up all over the place, but it was my love for Chad that had eventually thrown that old desire to the wind. All that mattered was that I was with him. This far from society there was no phone signal, no disturbances, and no audience. It was perfect.
"We should get you out there." Kim sniffed. "They'll think I tossed you out the back window and made a run for it."
We both glanced at the crooked window of the hut. I laughed at the mental image of Kim and I racing down the hillside, arms pinwheeling at our sides and my veil flying behind me like a kite.
"Yeah, let's do it."
She offered me her arm, and I threaded mine through it. The door squealed as we pulled it open, announcing our exit to the ragtag wedding party.
Chad stood twenty feet ahead of me, wearing an elegant tuxedo that stood out from the otherwise pastoral setting. We'd picked out the perfect cliff ledge, from beyond which stretched a vista like none other. Jagged mountain peaks rose in the distance, clouds hanging low around their base like fluffy snow. The air was chilly and light, layered with the fresh scent of mountain grass.
Kim dropped my arm halfway, and I approached Chad alone. The priest stood just off to the side. He hadn't wanted to get too close to the ledge.
Chad looked the most handsome I'd ever seen him. His tawny hair was combed neatly back from his forehead, not a piece out of place. His full mouth curved more with every step I took, and I nearly got lost in his eyes and walked straight to my doom.
I stopped when I reached him, beaming from ear to ear.
"That's a steep drop," I commented.
He laughed and looked down. "Yeah, it reminds me of our first adventure together."
"I hope you're not thinking of jumping."
Chad met my eyes with vibrant intensity. "Not a chance in the world, beautiful."
My heart fluttered in my chest.
"Are we ready?" asked the priest.
We both nodded, and the priest stepped over.
Oh, we were ready, alright.
Ready for the next adventure.
We hope you enjoyed Tagged Heart, turn the page for a bonus book, Played!
Played
By Tasha Fawkes
Prologue
On the dancefloor of Club LA, the music throbbed so loud the sound vibrated through my head and dove into my bones, making my cock pulsate too.
My girlfriend, Kelli Spencer, undulated her hips as she danced in front of me. Gorgeous. At five-foot-ten with a waistline that I could easily span with my hands, I let my gaze wander over perky tits, flaring hips, and legs that never quit. I likened her to a modern version of one of those vintage pinup girls of the 1940s.
Once again, I’d overindulged with the booze. And the joint I shared with Kelli. While such behavior wasn’t particularly common for me at thirty-one years of age, I felt like I needed to adapt, and adapt quickly, if I was going to maintain my whirlwind romance with the gorgeous model nearly a decade younger than me.
I moved my hand to her ass and pressed her in close so she could feel what was rapidly becoming a rock-hard erection, moving our hips to the music as one.
In an approving voice she said, “Joel, baby.” She’d had as much to drink as me, but it only seemed to enhance her, make her more invigorating, exciting, and more than a little challenging—
in bed and out.
Kelli and I had been dating for about three months now, and though I considered myself young and viral, and in decently good shape, she was a handful. Of course, as the CEO of Farrell Software Development—a company I built and whose reputation rested on my shoulders—I had to maintain my professional demeanor, so I did try to limit the nights out at clubs, the binge drinking, and the occasional indulgence of drugs, which I didn't really care for.
I didn't know why I was trying so hard to impress or even keep up with Kelli. It wasn't like I'd never been involved in a romantic relationship, but maybe that was the difference right there. The romance. I'd had my share of girlfriends, but with most of them, I never let it get beyond a certain stage.
That stage being sex.
No emotional attachments, no commitments, no promises.
Sex, of course, was always welcome, but it wasn't just that. My work was my life.
Another couple danced closer to us, the girl blatantly checking me out.
I knew I didn’t look my age with my pale complexion and designer glasses. I also knew that a lot of people took one look at me and classified me as a geek, despite my six-foot-one lanky frame. But tonight I’d worn a tank that showed off the muscles I’d so carefully built. I had an extremely particular approach about my appearance, and it paid off.
I didn’t share though, which was what this couple obviously had in mind, so I grasped Kelli’s hips and led her to the edge of the dance floor. I bent my knees, putting our crotches even, and pressed her into me, grinding.
Kelli let out a whoop and flung her head back before shouting in my ear, “You’re such a bad boy. Mmm.”
I’d never define myself as a "bad boy," though some people—especially those who got closer to me than I preferred—were often surprised by my sudden bursts of less than stellar behavior. As a hot-blooded American male, I doubted anyone would blame me, especially when they saw Kelli.
Entertaining, spontaneous, spoiled— all these things were Kelli. She could be stuck up at times. She knew she had the looks, which, in my opinion, left her behavior and attitude with a lot to be desired. But I’d spent years shut away developing software, and perhaps I was just out of practice, so what did I know? Bottom-line? Kelli and her sex appeal were irresistible. All she had to do was grind her hips against mine in and I grew harder just thinking about the pleasure she’d be giving me later.
This was the third time this month she and I had gone out clubbing, enjoying everything that the LA nightlife had to offer. As she constantly remind
ed me, she was not the kind of girl to stay home curled up on the couch watching movies or reading a book.
To be quite honest, I couldn't deny the new sense of pride—the pleasure—I gained from the notoriety the two of us received. Me, dating a girl like Kelli Spencer? She was hot and with her picture plastered in magazines and even on billboards, everybody knew it. I had never been hounded by the press until Kelli, and now couldn’t back out of the driveway without someone trying to follow me. It was annoying, but also addicting. A power rush.
I leaned in close, practically shouting in her ear to be heard over the music. "What do you say we go back to my place?"
"Kind of early, don't you think?" she shouted back, backing up a step, hips gyrating to the beat of the music, arms raised over her head.
She watched my gaze move pointedly to her chest, where her nipples hardened perceptibly beneath the blouse she wore. Suggestively, not even caring that anyone might see, she casually draped a hand over one breast and squeezed one of those impressive nipples. Then she laughed, lifted her hand to her mouth, and tucked her index finger slightly between her lips, touching the end of it with a wet tongue.
I felt my cock burgeon to attention, shook my head and laughed, and then held my hand out to her. She took it and we threaded our way through the merrymakers, the odor of alcohol, pot, and sex-crazed hormones floating through the crowd.
My driver was waiting in the parking lot across the street and took us swiftly to my home, an 11,000-square-foot mansion in the foothills overlooking downtown Los Angeles. My skills were in such demand and for the past decade, I had gained not only a nationwide reputation for my computer skills, but a bank account to match, and now owned and managed Farrell Software Development. I was driven and self-reliant, and as a billionaire, always cautious; maybe overly so, but I knew how the game was played. And I played it pretty damn well.
