LUST: A Bad Boy and Amish Girl Romance (The Brody Bunch Book 2)

by Valentine, Sienna

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night,” she gasped, leaning back to kiss me hard. She wrapped a backwards hand around my head and pulled me close. Her kisses, sweet and devouring, made me ache.

  “Oh, yeah?” I couldn’t even wait to get her to the bedroom. My hands slid around her hips and undid the buttons on her jeans, yanking them down, along with her panties, until they were around her knees. With one arm I bent her over the sink, and with the other, I ran two fingers up and down her slit. With special pressure on her clit, I could see her wetness already growing.

  “Fuck, Noah,” she whimpered.

  My fingers found her delicate warm hole and pushed inside deeply, drawing a cry of pleasure and quiver from deep within her core. “Have you been thinking about my cock as much as I’ve been thinking about this pussy?”

  “Oh, God,” she said. “I dreamt about your cock all night.”

  Reaching underneath her to grope her tits, I pumped my fingers in and out of her once more, slowly but deeply. “Did you dream about fucking it again?”

  “Yes,” she said, grasping at my arms.

  I pushed even deeper and her begging became more desperate.

  “Did you dream about sucking it?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation, and I leaned down to bite her neck, fingers still buried deep inside her. She pushed against my hand until I withdrew and turned her to face me. After smothering her mouth with hungry kisses, I undid my jeans and pulled out my erection.

  “I want to see this cock in your mouth,” I said as I pulled my shirt over my head. Laurel’s eyes devoured the view in front of her, hands running up and down my chest.

  My dick only got harder when she sank down to her knees on my kitchen floor, stopping only when she was eye-level with its pink, oozing head. A flick of her tongue stole the drop of pre-cum from my tip as if it was a piece of candy, and the feel of her hot mouth on me was almost too much to take.

  Taking as much of its length in her mouth as she could while stroking the rest with her hands, Laurel didn’t show an ounce of apprehension at the size of the cock in her mouth; in fact, she almost seemed eager to take it. Worked it like it was a challenge. I ran my hands through her hair and pushed it out of her face so I could watch my hardness disappear between her red lips. When she looked up at me with those big, blue eyes, I almost came right there in her mouth, but that wasn’t how I wanted this to end.

  I wasn’t about to cum until I fucked her again. I pulled my cock out of her mouth, wet with spit, and brought Laurel to her feet. In one quick motion I had her bent over the sink again, and made her wait there while I fished a condom out of my wallet.

  Instead of my cock, first Laurel’s pussy felt my fingers again. I pumped them hard and fast until she was crying out, and then swiftly replaced them with my shaft. Laurel’s cry of pleasure echoed against the kitchen window, and it was erotic music to my ears. In fact, I got off on the sound so much that I didn’t last long after that, but I didn’t give a fuck. I slammed my dick into her quickly, and as soon as I felt her pussy squeezing me as she came, I let my own orgasm loose.

  We panted against each other as our euphoria subsided, kissing deeply between hard breaths. Laurel’s wet tongue danced in my mouth and threatened to harden me all over again.

  “Hope you had a good meal today,” I said as I turned her around to face me and wrapped one hand around her ass. “Because I am nowhere near finished with you.”

  Laurel smiled, skin bright and flushed. “Promises, promises,” she said with a smirk. But she could only cry out and laugh when I picked her up and threw her naked body over my shoulder and took her, playfully kicking, to the bedroom.

  We fucked twice more before the both of us were finally ready for a break. She wiggled her sexy ass into the kitchen to gather us up a couple beers while I carefully rolled a fat joint on a copy of Planet Guitar magazine that was balanced precariously on the mattress. I was already leaning back on the bed and puffing smoke into the air when Laurel returned. She immediately cuddled back up into my side with her beer and took the joint for a few hits.

  After a few quiet minutes, I realized I didn’t have a thought in my head. Everything just felt… right. Was this what peace felt like?

  “Is it bad that I didn’t expect you to be so good in bed?” she asked with a giggle.

  I grinned down at her and pinched her ass. “I would say yes, but you’re not an idiot. Lots of dudes talk big without being able to back it up.”

  “You’re not kidding,” she said, glancing at my dick that was finally getting a rest.

  “You’re dirty,” I said. “I like it.”

  “I’ve always been kind of a perv. I can’t help it.”

  “Are you from Seattle?”

  Laurel shook her head. “Nah, I’m a band photographer. I’m here for work. I’ve been here before, though. I always did like it up here. It feels….” She took a deep breath. “It feels homey.”

  “I obviously tend to agree. Where did you grow up?”

  “I was actually born in Texas, and my family moved to the East Coast when I was just a kid. Did most of my growing up outside of Boston.”

  “Fuck, now there’s a scene to grow up in,” I groaned jealously.

  “It was pretty goddamn sweet,” she said with a nod.

  A memory jumped up and I couldn’t stop myself from sharing. “Oh, man, did you know the band Bleeding Bones? I think they were from Boston…”

  With wide eyes, Laurel sat up and playfully slapped my abs. “Shut up. You’ve heard of Bleeding Bones?”

  “I love Bleeding Bones! Their pit was the first one I ever got seriously injured in!” I turned my right forearm over where she could see it, and traced the scar line beneath my colorful tattoos. “Compound fracture, baby. I could not keep the pussy off of me for two weeks after that.”

  Laurel’s fingers followed the line of the scar, her mouth a surprised open O. “You are not going to believe this,” she said, staring at my arm. “Did you break this at El Corazon?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That’s where they played on their 2003 tour. How did you know that?”

  “Noah, I was at that show!” She grinned. “That was the tour I went on with the band!”

  This was unreal. Her smile beamed at me and there wasn’t anything bragging or bullshit about the look in her eyes. “No fucking way.”

  “Seriously! Their merch guy was one of my best friends in junior high, and he convinced them to bring me on as the tour photographer. That Seattle show, it wasn’t supposed to go down at El Corazon, I remember—the show got moved there last minute from a bigger venue.”

  “Yes!” I said, sitting up to face her. “Fuck, Quinn called me at seven in the goddamn morning and I had the biggest hangover, and he was losing his shit because we had to go exchange our tickets before the space at the smaller venue sold out.” I started laughing as the memory rose fresh in my mind. “We waited in the rain for six goddamn hours that day just to make sure we got in.”

  “That place smelled horrible,” laughed Laurel. “Remember that? You fuckers waiting in the rain in your cotton jackets, and then getting all packed together in that tiny room like a bunch of mean, wet dogs. Ugh, it was such a shit show!” She hunched over, giggling at the story.

  “Fuck, that is unbelievable,” I said, pushing her hair out of her face. “What are the odds of that?”

  “Pretty fucking small,” said Laurel. “Though I don’t remember seeing you break your arm in the pit—I just heard about it from the band afterwards. Ugh, their drummer was such a puss about blood… he would not shut up about how gross it was.” She ran her hand down the scar on my arm again. “I can’t believe that was you.”

  “And here you are, back again in my fair city to watch me suffer a different kind of injury,” I said. I meant it as a joke, and it even came out lightly with a laugh, but the words cut deep through the mood like I had dropped a rock into a lake. Laurel looked uncomfortable.
r />   “Sorry,” I said. “Forget it; that was a bad joke.”

  “We can talk about it, if you want,” she offered.

  “I don’t,” I said. Part of me meant it.

  “Okay,” said Laurel. She paused for a moment, and then asked with a big grin, “Can I tell you something weird?”

  I laughed. “Sure.”

  She ran a teasing fingertip over the inked muscles of my chest. “Licking your tattoos reminds me of that scene in Willy Wonka where they lick the wallpaper.” She licked my chest. “Is this what snozberries taste like?”

  Maybe I was just way too stoned, but I couldn’t stop laughing. “You are a fucking weirdo.” Laurel lost it with me and I wrapped her in playful roughhouse hug until she squealed against my skin. She threw a leg over me and sidled up against my side again.

  “Speaking of tats, I wanted to ask you about that,” I said. My left arm was wrapped around her beautiful body, and I stretched the hand out to rub softly on the delicate script tattoo on her upper thigh. It was so close to her hipbone that unless she was near-naked, the ink would stay hidden—so much different from my approach to body art, but I liked it. Finding it, touching it, and even licking it felt like I had found a secret treasure. “What does it say?”

  Laurel stretched her leg out and immediately I could see why I couldn’t read the ink before—she had had it done in such a way that only she could read it from her angle. “It’s lyrics. Tracy Chapman.”

  I smiled. “No shit?”

  “Yeah,” said Laurel. She seemed a little self-conscious as she talked. “We gotta make a decision: leave tonight, or live and die this way.”

  Chills ran down my body. I lay my face against Laurel’s head. “Why did you get it?”

  Laurel paused. Her breathing slowed down a little, like she was doing it on purpose to stay calm. “I grew up in a family completely different from me. Conservative… religious… boring,” she said with a self-effacing laugh. “I was the black sheep. We didn’t hate each other, but I just never belonged. And I always promised myself I would get out and make something of myself on my own terms. I got this tattoo to make myself remember… so that when things got dark and I got scared, I’d remember…”

  “Remember what?”

  “Remember that as complicated as things seem, there’s only ever really two choices. Leave what you’re doing if it’s wrong, or live and die with it.”

  My heart actually ached, listening to her talk. She understood so much of the isolation I had felt in my life.

  “I love that,” I told her. “That’s really fucking beautiful, Laurel.”

  She shrugged and took a drink of beer. “Yeah, everyone says that.”

  I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She looked up at me with worried eyes. “I just mean… I don’t know. I don’t want to offend you.”

  “Try me,” I said.

  “I’ve just heard that a lot before,” she said, the exhaustion in her voice more than apparent. “Guys are always very impressed with my… fire. My drive. My ambition. At least, impressed enough to flirt and fuck me. It doesn’t seem to impress them very long, though.”

  She had to be exaggerating. Was she seriously trying to tell me she couldn’t get a guy to stick around? “Are you joking? You’re telling me, with the way you look, the way you fuck, and all the awesome shit you’re into, you have trouble getting dudes?”

  She shrugged again and took the joint from my fingers. She held the drag in her lungs longer this time and blew it out slowly. “It’s a mystery for the ages.”

  “It’s no mystery. The men you’ve met are fucking idiots, obviously.”

  Laurel laughed, but it was quiet and a bit sad. She passed me the joint and leaned her blonde head against my chest, tucked under my chin. “Eh, it’s fine. I have other things going on, and dumbass dudes only get in the way of it, anyway.”

  I smiled and kissed the top of her head. “I think that’s sexy as fuck.”

  “You do?” She didn’t look up at me, but I could still feel her face twisted into some disbelieving frown.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Most of the women I interact with are just… passive. They swim behind other people until they get swallowed up by the sea. But you, shit… you’re a shark.”

  She looked up at me this time, and I met her eyes with a serious face. She stared at me, like she was trying to decide if I was full of shit.

  “Most people are afraid of sharks,” she said quietly. Her eyes fell.

  With one hand running through her soft hair, I said, “Because they don’t understand them.” Then, for good measure, I added, “And I’m not most people.”

  Laurel’s smile glowed up at me. “No… you’re not.”

  “I feel like I never meet anyone who wants to live,” I said. “Everyone is so fucking eager to settle down and get their routine going… that schedule they can follow right up to the cemetery gates.” I put the joint carefully in the ashtray on my bedside table and wrapped both my arms around her. “I think your fire is beautiful.”

  Laurel’s face softened. She crawled up my body until her lips were over mine, and she kissed me with a heated tenderness that made me ache. I wrapped my arms around her body and pulled her into me.

  With the quiet storm pattering outside and Laurel burning in my arms, everything else in the world faded into nothing.

  9

  Laurel

  Hours passed, and Noah and I didn’t seem to want to do anything except talk and fuck and touch each other. The driven part of me felt guilty, because I didn’t feel like I was at work anymore. I felt… different. Like I was just out with someone whose company I enjoyed, and who happened to be a stone-cold fuck-machine.

  After we got tired of lying in his huge bed, I got up and wiggled my ass until he followed me into the shower. Under the stream of hot water, Noah wrapped his arms around me and made out with me like we were teenagers, caressing my face, pressing his taut body up against me, and me up against the wall. When he bent to kiss my neck, his beard tickled my sensitive skin and made me shiver. My hard nipples rubbed up against the muscles of his chest, and I sighed softly when he brought a hand up to touch them.

  “You’re so fucking hot,” said Noah, desperation in his voice. “I could fuck you forever.”

  His words made my knees weak. I bit into his shoulder and pushed my body tighter against his. “I wish you would.”

  His giant dick was already hard again. I took it in my hands and smiled as Noah shivered under my touch, bending his head into my shoulder as I stroked him under the spray of the shower. I felt his teeth pressing into my neck as he mauled my breasts with his strong hands while I increased my rhythm. As soon as I felt his cock spasm and release, his hands slipped around to grip my ass and pull me against his wet body. His cum covered the front of my pussy and tops of my thighs, and I moaned.

  “You’re something else, you know that?” he said, cupping my jaw before he kissed me.

  Noah held me under the warm shower spray and gently cleaned me off, never making me lift a finger. He nuzzled into the side of my neck and kissed my cheek.

  When we finished, Noah wrapped me in his own gray bathrobe and only took for himself a towel around his waist—which I, of course, wasn’t complaining about. His hard body looked even more incredible soaking wet, the water beading off the colors of his tattoos and rolling down his muscles like raindrops. He took a minute to run a black plastic comb through the bit of blonde hair on the very top of his head that wasn’t shaved close, and I watched him with an endearing smile.

  “You hungry?” he said, wrapping his arms around my waist.

  “Starving,” I suddenly realized with a laugh. “But I also don’t want to go anywhere that would require us to, you know… put on clothes.”

  Noah grinned and squeezed my ass. “I like the way you think. Delivery?”

  “How about Chinese?”

  “Done,” he said. “I’m sure I’ve got a menu buried in
the kitchen somewhere.” While he did the work of gathering dinner, I finished drying off and hung up his bathrobe. Feeling bold after so many orgasms under my belt, I sauntered into the kitchen, naked, and whipped Noah’s towel off his waist while he was still on the phone with the Chinese place.

  Noah whirled with a surprised face, which turned into a pretend mad face as soon as he saw me grinning at him, dangling the towel next to my naked body. He looked me up and down, and between his legs his dick twitched just a bit.

  “Sorry, what were you saying?” he asked the person on the phone. “There’s someone here who is in for a world of trouble if she doesn’t stop distracting me from my phone call…”

  His playfulness revved me up like nothing else, and I took a few steps backwards, out of his reach. “Oh, really, tough guy? What are you gonna do to me… if I distract you?” I seductively dropped my right hand down my body and between my legs. Noah bit his lip and bent at the waist, trying to suppress a groan as the worker at the restaurant read back his order to him.

  “Yes, that sounds correct,” said Noah, his voice strained, his eyes glued to the hand between my legs. Already his dick was half-hard again. “Thirty minutes sounds perfect.” He looked up and met my eyes. “Just enough time for someone to get punished.”

  If I wasn’t wet before, I certainly was after that line. Noah ended the call and took a few hard steps toward me, lifting me off my feet into his arms. He dragged me a few feet into the carpeted living room as I squealed in mock protest.

  Noah lowered me to the floor, but kept a tight grip on my wrists which he held above my head as he hovered over me. He ground his waist against mine, dragging his massive erection along my pelvic bone, teasing my lips.

  “You just don’t like taking orders, do you?” said Noah before he bent to lick my nipples, sucking each of them into his mouth one at a time.

  “Aren’t we both in the wrong scene for that?” I responded, lifting my hips up to meet him, trying to get his cock inside me. But Noah moved out of the way and pushed his body against mine to hold it still.