Dirty Little Quickies

by Shanora Williams

  Axel stands up, but instead of walking toward the exit like the rest of them, he’s coming in my direction again.

  “Something wrong, firecracker?”

  I ignore his question.

  “Yeah. Something’s wrong.” He smiles. “Bet you wish you were on my lap, huh?”

  I look away. “No. Not really.”

  I peer up again, hoping he’s backing away, but nope. He’s still standing there.

  “I remember you telling me a few months ago how much you love to make breakfast. How about invite me over for some tomorrow. A nice, hot Sunday breakfast. I’ll even bring the jelly back.” He smirks with his last statement.

  “And why the hell would I want you anywhere near me on my only day off?” I fold my arms tightly across my chest, frowning up at him.

  “Because you want me, Vanessa. It’s fucking obvious.”

  My face remains even, but when he flashes that annoyingly sexy smile again, I feel my belly roll like a tidal wave. “I’ll be busy,” I mutter in response.

  “Doing what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Probably catching up on sleep.”

  He laughs. “No. You’ll be busy making me breakfast and then afterwards, you’ll be riding my dick at the kitchen table.”

  I roll my eyes and pick up the empty shot glass that were left beside him. “Have a good night, Axel.”

  Before I can grab all of them, he catches my hand. I look down at his and then up at him. “Let’s make a deal,” he continues. “Invite me to breakfast and I’ll stop my parties for two months.”

  I narrow my gaze. “Two months? For one breakfast meal?” I scoff.

  “No. Breakfast every Sunday morning for the next two months.”

  I don’t get the game he’s playing. I pull my hand away, placing the glass in the sink. “Why?” I ask after a brief pause.

  “Why what?”

  “Do you want me to make you breakfast so badly? And why should I after the way that chick was practically smothering you?”

  His upper lip quirks up. “I think you know exactly why. And I’m sure you also know that chick doesn’t mean shit to me.”

  “No, I don’t know why you want me to make you breakfast. Please enlighten me, jackass.” My arms are crossed again.

  “There’s only one way I’ll be able to leave you alone and get you out of my system,” he says, leaning in closer. “I see the way you come running to me in those pajamas—the gowns that show you off. You want me to want you and guess what? I do. Breakfast every Sunday for the next two months will solve the problem. It’ll settle all that bickering you love to do with me. You’ll have some peace and quiet at night…in the neighborhood anyway. I can’t promise that it’ll be quiet with what I have in mind for us to do in that fancy little kitchen of yours, but it’ll be better than hearing my music at one in the morning, won’t it?”

  “I don’t want you, Axel! Don’t you get that?”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don’t. And Justine won’t want to eat with you. Her boyfriend comes on Sundays.”

  “Yeah, probably to take her out to breakfast, which leaves you all alone on Sunday mornings, doesn’t it?”

  My eyes stretch. How the hell does he know that?

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed. I’m not a fucking moron, Vanessa. Nothing happens in my neighborhood that I don’t know about.” He leans over the counter a bit more. I don’t know how he still manages to tower over me, but he does. I have to look up at him, which makes me feel way too vulnerable and tiny. “Breakfast for the next two months. No parties. Just peace, quiet, and my cock inside you every fucking Sunday.” His lips are close to my cheek. The hairs on my spine tingle, an ache now building between my legs. “Your sexy moans in my ear and my tongue buried deep in your sweet little cunt every week. Tell me that doesn’t sound good.”

  It does. Holy shit, it does. But no. No! I can’t. I’m not about to drop my guard just to boost his ego. “Goodbye, Axel,” I say again, and this time I turn my back and scurry off to the employee lounge.

  I don’t look back on purpose, but I do watch from the window when I’m inside the room. Axel stands there looking both dumbfounded and delighted all at once, a small smile lingering on his lips. It doesn’t take long for him to straighten himself up and leave.

  I sigh, sinking down on the leather couch. I’m heated—so fucking turned on. I can feel my nipples straining in my bra. I can feel the heat building up between my legs, radiating with desire. I can’t stand it—how he can manage to get under my skin and make me feel like this. Ready to commit lust. Betraying my own mind and morals. It fucking astounds me.

  I’m too stubborn to just accept it, but I have to admit his deal would solve a lot of problems.

  It would make Justine change her mind about wanting to move if he stops with the parties for a while, that way I won’t need to find a new roommate. Hopefully it’ll make Axel realize that his parties are lame and maybe he’ll never start them up again. Maybe I can talk some sense into him about them, get him to drop the whole scheme for good.

  And I can’t forget about myself. I’ll be getting fucked by my sexy-as-hell neighbor. Yes, he’s a guy I literally cannot stand, but something about him beckons me. When he’s near, my body is on full alert. Everything zaps and zings and the alarms that scream danger go off when he’s close by, but I can never seem to shut them off.

  It makes no sense at all to me, but I know he can provide. I know he can please me in more ways than just his tongue and his fingers. I want to find out just what those ways are. I want it so much it hurts.

  Four

  Axel

  After finishing the oil change for my Mustang, Riley, I sit on the trunk, wiping off my greasy hands. Riley’s been good to me for a long time. Consistent as hell, even with all the bitches I’ve had in my passenger seat. I’ve had a lot of good fucks in this car. She’s loyal, not to mention she purrs so loudly for me.

  As I take a swig of my beer, I see a car coming down the road. It’s that old twink piece of shit Vanessa drives. Looks like a bug and can only fit two fucking people inside it.

  I hop off the trunk as she parks in her driveway. Just as Vanessa steps out, I turn my back, walking to my portable speaker and turning up the music.

  I smirk across the street at her, giving a small wink that I know will piss her off. She huffs then turns for the house, unlocking the door and walking in. I chuckle to myself, knowing she’ll bite. She’ll cave. She always does.

  Literally three minutes pass and she’s rushing out of her door, zooming across the street. She’s like a damn ballerina with the way she bounces on her toes, thinking she’s taking angry steps when really I see her as nothing but my little Puerto Rican, fire-headed pixie.

  I clutch my beer bottle, standing tall as she finally meets up to me.

  “Fine!” she shouts over the music.

  I cock a brow, leaning against the side. “Fine what?”

  She releases an aggravated breath and then steps around me, turning the volume down on the portable speaker. When she comes back my way, she raises two fingers in the air. “Two months, Axel, and that’s it.”

  I fight a grin. It’s so fucking hard to do. “You’re agreeing to give me your pussy for two months?”

  She swallows hard, her cheeks flaming just as red as her hair. “No loud music,” she goes on. “No parties. No obnoxious college kids hanging out on your front lawn—none of that.” She steps closer to me, her tits brushing across my forearm. “Nothing but silence for two months and I mean it.”

  I finally crack the grin I’ve been fighting. “Two months of silence in exchange for breakfast and pussy?” I shrug. “Fine. I’m down with that, firecracker.”

  She narrows her eyes a bit, but I can see the fire in them, the lust. She wants me just as bad and I’m going to give it to her. Nice, raw, and deep. She has no idea what the fuck she’s in for.

  “I’m on birth control, but bring a condom. Come over at nine.” Sh
e walks off, glancing over her shoulder once before reaching her driveway and making her way to the front door.

  When I hear it shut behind her, I can’t help but chuckle to myself. She just put herself in my fucking palm. That firecracker is mine now. No fucking doubt about that. I hate mornings, but with Vanessa’s pussy as my wakeup call, I’m going to end up loving the hell out of them, especially if they’re coming with a side of pancakes.

  Five

  Vanessa

  It’s past nine o’ clock.

  I check the clock on the wall with a shake of my head. I should have known he would be late. He’s an ass that way.

  Thirty minutes after nine and there’s a knock on the door. I finish flipping the last blueberry pancake and take it off the pan, placing the spatula down and going for the door.

  Axel stands there with a large hand planted on the doorframe, his forehead resting on his forearm. He has a pair of Ray-Bans on, the filter so dark I can’t see his eyes. He has on a fitted V-neck T-shirt and I can see the tattoos on his chest and the sleeves on his arms.

  I almost stop breathing, but of course I have to let my attitude win. “You’re late, asshole.” I walk back to the kitchen again.

  He shuts the door behind him and follows me to the kitchen. “What can I say? I fucking hate mornings,” he grumbles and I can still hear the sleep in his voice, like he woke up not too long ago.

  I sigh, grabbing the dish stacked with pancakes. “Well, lets eat. I’m actually really hungry and you’re lucky I just wrapped up on the food otherwise I would have eaten without you.”

  He lets out a deep, throaty laugh, dropping his large, heavy body in the chair in front of the window and removing his sunglasses. “You’re even feistier in the mornings.”

  I ignore his comment, placing the pancakes down and then going for the bacon and sausage. The freshly squeezed orange juice and glasses are already set up on the table. I don’t know what possessed me to squeeze it fresh. I guess deep down, I want him to keep coming back, not only for me, but for the food too. I should consider myself a joke.

  I started cooking a little after Justine left. I had to shower up and clean the house a little. Now, I’m a mess. Purposely wearing sweat pants and a white cami without a bra beneath. My nipples are prodding through the fabric and when I look up, he’s staring right at them.

  I clear my throat as I sit, but he doesn’t pull his gaze away, which isn’t surprising in the least.

  “I didn’t think you could actually cook.” He picks up a pancake, finally looking away. “Everything looks good. Most girls say they can cook but are all talk.”

  I put on a smug smile as I grab a strip of bacon and take a bite of it. It’s quiet for a while, but only because he’s scarfing the food down like an animal. I guess he really likes it.

  “You aren’t going to go against your word, are you?” I finally ask after taking a small sip of juice. “Because you don’t really seem like the kind of guy who keeps his word. The whole neighborhood wants to get rid of you.”

  “They may want to get rid of me, but it’s because I don’t make agreements with them. I made an agreement with you. As long as you give me what I want, then you get what you want. For the time frame we have set, anyway.”

  I roll my eyes at that last statement. “Maybe you should do what adults do and get a real job. Ever think about that?”

  “Nah. That’s fucking lame. Why work when I can get money from suckers like them? Pays the bills and keeps a roof over my head.” He shrugs, picking up his glass. “Why change the system?”

  I realize this is going to be harder than I thought—trying to get him to change his mind about ever throwing another party. But it’s the first Sunday. I have time. Plus we haven’t fucked yet. Pussy is powerful.

  After we’re finished, I take the empty dishes to the sink. I can feel him watching me as I scrape a few plates off. His stare his hot and heavy. When I turn to look at him, I rest my lower back against the counter edge and he runs his tongue over his full, pink lips.

  “I’m not full yet,” he says.

  “Then eat more.”

  His lip twitches and then quirks up. “Nah. I need something a little more satisfying. I need what I really came here for.” His eyes are serious now. “Come here.” He flicks his fingers, gesturing for me to come. “Sit right here on the table and spread those legs.”

  “You had your breakfast. You can leave now.” I don’t know why I’m still playing hard to get. This is what we agreed on, but I can’t help it. The chase gives me a thrill. By the spark in his eyes, I can tell the chase thrills him too. This game of cat and mouse turns him on more than I probably know.

  The bad boy trying to catch the wannabe good girl. Interesting.

  He laughs, low and deep, the hum of it making me tingle between the legs. “Just come here and stop playing these pointless games with me. You want my dick and I want your pussy. You practically beg for it every time you come running to my house trying to tell me what to do.” He stands up, and his height is both intimidating and alluring. “This is the only time you will be able to give me commands—only while I’m pleasing you. You’ll get to say words like ‘harder’ and ‘faster’ and ‘more’. You want that, don’t you?”

  Yes. Yes, I do.

  He comes closer to me, broad shoulders swaying. When he’s up close, he pushes my sweat pants down and then grips my waist, twirling me around and dropping me down on an empty spot on the table. “I know you like to put up fight and won’t come to me willingly, so I’ll make this happen my way.” He drops his head, kissing my upper lip. “Such a hardheaded little firecracker.” He nips at my bottom lip. “And it’s something about that shit that turns me on so fucking much.”

  “You make me sick,” I breathe, my body betraying me. I can feel my legs spreading wider for him, my hips rounding out, my pussy ready to invite him in. He pushes between my thighs, grinding his hardness between them. “Where’s the condom?” I ask.

  Grabbing my wrists, he forces my arms around the back of his neck and then he grabs my hip with one hand, using the other to push my panties aside. A small smile is on his lips as he presses his cock on my entrance.

  “You know how long I’ve been waiting for this.” His head shakes. “Fuck a condom.” My breaths stifle and my back arches on its own accord.

  “Axel—” I start to protest, but he stops me.

  “I’m clean, Vanessa.” His eyes become serious as they study mine. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I take that shit seriously. I want you raw, that’s all. Is that cool?”

  I sigh. “Yeah, I guess. But you’re still a jackass.”

  He smiles. “You talk so much shit, you know that? I think I deserve a little respect.” The tip of his nose runs down the bridge of mine. While it does, he plays with my already wet pussy. “You ready for me to fuck some respect into you, little firecracker?”

  “Just hurry up.” I struggle to keep my voice strong, but my words are short lived because in no time, he thrusts himself right into me, slamming deep and groaning as he chuckles, “Fuck yeah, you are,” in my ear. “You’re ready, baby.”

  I gasp loudly and my arms tense around the back of his neck as he slides his large hands down to my ass and cups it, thrusting his hips forward and filling me up with every inch of his cock.

  “Oh, yes,” I breathe out.

  “Fuck, your pussy feels so good. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to be inside you like this.” He picks me up in his hands like I’m the weight of a feather, bouncing me up and down on his hard length now. I breathe hard, unable to control the budding orgasm. “You slide up and down on my cock so easily. That’s how wet you are for me, Vanessa. So wet I can feel you dripping down my thighs.”

  I hold onto him tightly, hating and loving this—wanting more, but wanting to resist, too. But he feels so good and he’s even bigger than I thought. Swelling up inside my body, making me fuck him.

  He watches my face with hot gray eyes, like he
can read my thoughts. Like he knows that I secretly love this. My moans and cries are enough to prove how much I’m enjoying it. Before I know it, my back is pressed on the fridge. It bangs and rattles a little, but he continues pounding, sucking on my bottom lip hard and groaning at the same time.

  “I’m going to own your pussy before these two months are over. You’ll come running to me every fucking night, baby.” His breath trickles past my ear. “I’ll fuck you right—just like this, baby. Just. Like. This.” He strokes faster with every sentence. Every word.

  “You’re such an ass,” I breathe out, my fingers getting tangled in his bed-hair.

  “You like it.” He pulls my back off the fridge and storms into the living room. He sits with me on top of him and I gasp. He’s so full inside me now. So big. “Now shut up and ride my cock.”

  His voice sounds deeper, almost feral. I don’t fight what my body wants, especially when he presses a thumb down on my aching clit. I need to be satisfied. I need to come. He swirls his thumb around my clit in slow, torturous circles as I swivel my hips round and around.

  “Oh, that feels so good,” I moan.

  He breathes harder, watching me with hungry eyes, his other hand on my hip. He uses that hand to force my body back and forth, making it easier for me to ride him.

  I’m feeling it too much. Loving this too much. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to be wild. Now that I can, I’m taking full advantage of it.

  I bring my hands up to my hair and bounce up and down and his mouth gapes as he clutches my hip, as if he didn’t see that coming. I smile down at him, dropping my hands and holding onto his shoulders, riding his cock hard and fast. I lift up and drop down and the back of his head hits the top of the sofa. His hands lower to my ass and he squeezes it tight.

  “Shit, baby,” he sighs. “Your pussy is gripping the hell out of my dick.” I keep going, his words my ammunition. “Oh yeah, baby.” He picks his head back up when I start to circle my hips again. “Like that. Ride this cock like you mean it.”