How Hard Can It Be

by Robyn Peterman

  In the end we kept it all. It gave the book a wonderfully disjointed feeling, a real sense of no direction whatsoever. The reviews were sure to suck. I was curious what Joanne really wrote after that alarming chapter she spewed out. I figured it must be horror or true crime, but we were so busy laughing I had no time to ask.

  Leaving the day behind me, I leaned back in the tub and tried to wipe everything from my mind except Jack’s butt and the relaxing scent of my lemony bathwater.

  “Mmm, smells good in here,” Kristy said, sitting on the closed toilet in the bathroom. “What are you wearing for your hot date tonight?”

  “My good butt jeans, a pale coffee camisole, that sheer cream sexy top, and my shit-kickin’ boots.” I grinned, taking off the top layer of my skin with the loofah. I planned to make my whole body as soft as a baby’s bottom.

  “Well, you better hurry. He’ll be here soon and unless you want to greet him in your birthday . . .”

  “Hello ladies,” Jack said, leaning against the door frame of my bathroom.

  “Shit,” I screamed; both Kristy and I jumped. I sloshed lemon water all over the floor and all over Kristy. “Oh my God, have you ever heard of knocking?” I yelled. Kristy looked down at the floor, trying not to laugh.

  Jack smiled and tilted his head to one side, making me want to hop out of the tub, tackle him, and have my way with him. “The front door was wide open,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Oooh, my bad.” Kristy winced. “I was carrying groceries in and I forget to shut it.”

  I rolled my eyes and tried to make sure the bubbles were covering my privates. I’d deal with my ass-hat roommate later.

  “Kristy, would you mind giving Rena and me a moment, please?”

  “Not at all.” She winked at me as she backed out of the bathroom.

  “Traitor,” I yelled at her. She laughed as she left the apartment, shutting the door behind her.

  “I’m naked,” I told him, stating the obvious.

  “Yes, you are,” he acknowledged.

  “You have to turn around so I can get out.”

  “Nope.”

  “Nope?” I repeated, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Nope.” He was grinning. Clearly the eye-narrowing thing didn’t affect him. I tried staring him down and he just smirked back. Damn, his eyes were beautiful. “You’re breathtaking,” he whispered, sending little jolts all through my body.

  “I’ll be a shriveled prune if you don’t leave the bathroom and let me get out,” I shot back as I noticed the bubbles disappearing. Shit.

  “Let’s play a game,” he suggested with a glint in his eye. Uh-oh. . . I could see his brain wheels turning.

  “What kind of game?” I asked, trying to suppress my inner slut, who was demanding I agree to anything the sexy guy wanted.

  “It’s called ‘Look But Don’t Touch.’ I promise not to touch, but I get to watch.” His voice was husky and low. It was a good thing there wasn’t enough water in the tub for me to drown in because he was turning me into jelly.

  I examined my pruney fingers and considered his request. I might be able to work this to my advantage if my inner ho-bag didn’t get out of line. My plan was to seduce him, make him realize I trusted him, and then ride him like a cowboy until we both passed out.

  “Fine,” I told him, “you can look, but you can’t touch.”

  I stood up and smiled, letting the suds slowly slide down my body. I had never been so bold in my life, but this man made me feel so sexy, I’d consider streaking again. His hands closed into fists and I enjoyed watching him try to stay put. I leisurely ran my hands over my breasts, my hips, my stomach, and thighs, pushing the rest of the suds down to my ankles. I enjoyed torturing him. Unfortunately I was also torturing myself. I wanted him so badly I physically ached.

  I stepped out of the tub and bent over at the hips, my very nice rear end facing him, and picked up a fluffy white bath sheet. My inner ho-bag and slut were high-fiving with joy. I heard him groan and purposely bang his head on the doorframe. Damn, this was fun.

  “You are so mean,” he laughed.

  “Oh baby,” I cooed, “I am so just getting started.” I began to dry my body, starting at my feet, my calves, my thighs . . . When I got to my bottom, I put the bath towel between my legs, holding it with my right hand in front of me and my left hand behind. All I needed was some cheesy background music and I could be starring in my own porno. I bitch-slapped the inner critic in my head and decided to go for it. I pulled the nubby towel back and forth, watching him the entire time. His lips were parted and his gorgeous eyes were hooded. His hands had unclenched and he was holding on to the doorframe above his head. Evidence of his desire was obvious. Tremendously so.

  The towel was creating a friction between my legs that was very close to backfiring on me. Instead of drying myself, I was getting soaked. The look in his eyes and the pressure between my legs made my knees buckle. I didn’t even see him move, but move he did.

  One hand was on my back, pressing my breasts against his chest. The other was on my ass and sliding lower, reaching with his fingers between my legs. He groaned as he felt how wet I was and reached further, finding the spot that only I was ever able to zone in on. He had no trouble. He began to rub in circular motions with well-aimed pinches in between.

  “You’re cheating,” I gasped, trying unsuccessfully to calm my undulating hips.

  “You win, I lose,” he ground out as he captured my mouth with his. He wasn’t even a little bit gentle. His manhandling was about to make me speak in tongues.

  “Jack,” I moaned, “you’re making me come apart.”

  “I just want to make you to come,” he said as his lips and teeth moved to my neck. His tongue darted to the concave area by my collar bone and I shuddered. His hand was moving so quickly against me I was whimpering. I was spiraling out of control and loving it. His fingers felt better than Vinnie set on high. I bucked against his hand, moaned his name, and raked my nails down his back.

  “God, Rena,” he whispered against my ear, “you are killing me. So sexy, so beautiful . . . so fucking wet. You’re mine. No one else’s. Mine.” He increased his efforts. My lady bits were literally throbbing under his expert hands. I couldn’t speak, I thought I might pass out and fall to the floor from the onslaught of sensation, but lucky for me I stayed conscious. He buried his teeth in my neck at the same time he buried two fingers deeply inside me.

  I screamed.

  As he made love to my mouth with his own, he worked his fingers in and out of my body. The pleasure from the activity he was engaged in made me see Jesus. I screamed again and swore in at least five languages. My body jerked and tightened like a vise around his hand. I heard him laugh in total masculine pleasure as I kept spasming over and over while his fingers continued to move inside me.

  It seemed like hours later when I floated down from the most intense orgasm I’d ever had in my life. I was ready to pass out, but Jack had other plans. He gave me no downtime as his hands went back to work on my most sensitive areas. My body stiffened to reject him, but he wouldn’t stop. His mouth found mine as his fingers went to my magic spot and began an erotic massage. I was still tender and swollen from before, but that didn’t slow him.

  “Jack, I can’t,” I whimpered.

  “Yes, you can,” he said. His lips made their way from my mouth to my neck.

  “No more,” I pleaded, “please . . . no more.”

  “Yes more, so much more,” he said as his mouth closed over my painfully erect nipple and sucked. While my mouth was busy telling him no, my body was telling an entirely different story. My hips pumped against his hand and my back arched to give him better access to my breasts. My inner slut and I had become one and we were having a hell of a good time.

  The tightening and tingling started between my legs and traveled upward, sending shock waves pinging through me. I wrapped my arms around his head as he teased my nipples with his tongue and spread my legs t
o give him better access. He chuckled and bit down on my nipple.

  I cried out from the pain and pleasure of what he was doing. My body tried to jerk away, but he held me fast. His fingers continued to plunge into me and he pressed the heel of his hand against my clit. The rhythm of my hips increased to a frantic pace and I let loose a string of swear words I didn’t know I knew as my body exploded into another earth-shattering orgasm. I was certain my voice would be gone for six months. Jack held me tight, showering me with kisses as I rode out my second orgasm in fifteen minutes.

  “Oh my God,” I croaked, “that was . . . I’ve never. Oh God, you’re amazing.”

  He smiled and brushed my wild hair out of my face, carried me into my bedroom and sat me on his lap. “You amaze me. You are everything I want.”

  I realized, while I’d had my turn and then some, he had not . . . “Um Jack.” All of a sudden I felt shy. “Do you want to . . . finish what we um . . . started?”

  “I would love to,” he grinned and my tummy flipped. “But only if you trust me.”

  “Jack.”

  “Yes?”

  “I trust you. I really, really trust you.”

  “Thank God,” he laughed, tossing me onto my back on the bed. “So, what should we do first?” His eyes raked my body, making me tingle in anticipation.

  “I think we already did first. It’s time for second. Get naked,” I ordered gleefully.

  He barked with laughter and obliged. “With pleasure.” His voice was hoarse and sexy. Even after what my body had just been through, it wanted more. It took everything I had not to throw myself at him while he slowly disrobed. Obnoxiously slow. With a huge grin on his face, he danced around the bedroom like a male stripper with no sense of rhythm. As I laughed at his show, he removed his shirt . . . then his shoes . . . then his socks . . . then his belt . . . then his pants. Then his boxer briefs.

  Oh. My. God. His body was glorious. Strong and muscular and so fucking hot, like satin stretched over steel. His shoulders were broad and his arms were muscular. His chest was perfection with a light sprinkling of crisp blond hair. It tapered down to his abdomen, which was ripped; his cock was long and thick and as hard as a rock. I clenched in anticipation of how he would feel inside me. His eyes narrowed as he watched me like a predator watches his prey. He waited for me to make the first move before he pounced.

  Hmm, a new game . . . I hopped off the bed and touched him. He kept his hands still at his sides, letting me do all the work. His muscles rippled under my fingertips and his body shuddered as I lightly ran my nails over his nipples. I liked this game.

  I moved lower, taking him into my hands. He felt so good, so perfect, but I wanted more. I kept my eyes on his as I slowly dropped down until my mouth was right where I wanted it. They stayed locked on his as I flicked my tongue out and circled the swollen head of his cock. He groaned and twined his fingers into my hair, pushing my mouth further down on him.

  I had never known the taste and feel of a man in my mouth could be so erotic. He was intoxicating. Making him come apart at the seams was as much of a turn-on as riding him like a cowboy. I gripped his hips and relaxed my throat, taking in as much of him as I could.

  I felt powerful and sexy as I went down on him. He made the sexiest sounds I’d ever heard and my whole body reacted. His moans spurred me to move faster, taking him deeper and deeper.

  “Rena, stop,” Jack hissed, pulling me off him. It made a popping sound as my mouth released him. I could still taste him on my tongue and lips as he dragged me up his body. “I want to come inside you,” he growled and moved to my breasts. His teeth, lips, and tongue on my nipples were making me lose it. He divided his attention between my breasts, licking, nipping, and sucking me into a blubbering mess.

  His beautiful mouth and talented tongue moved slowly down my body, over my ribs, my stomach, and then lower to the center of my universe. He pushed me down on the bed and greedily went after what he wanted. To completely destroy me.

  He went to work with an expertise and hunger that was mind blowing. My hips began to buck. I didn’t know I had anything left. I gasped and moaned as he licked and nipped.

  Tears were streaming from my eyes as he took my sex into his mouth and sucked.

  “So fucking hot,” he muttered before he pushed his tongue up inside me, while his fingers mercilessly teased my clit.

  Right before I had another big O, he stopped. He slid back up my body, placing a heavy thigh between my legs, ensuring I stayed open for him.

  He needn’t have bothered with the thigh. I could barely move and I would have happily given him anything he wanted. I was wrecked, and we hadn’t even done it yet. He stared down at me and I forgot how to breathe. He very gently traced my lips with his finger.

  “I’m falling for you,” he said.

  “Me, too,” I whispered.

  His smile made my heart skip beats. “I want to hear you scream again, Rena.” The finger that had traced my lip moved to my breast. “I’m going to fuck you now until we both come apart.”

  Holy God Almighty, my body was no longer tired. No one had spoken to me like that. Ever . . . and I loved it. Excitement blasted through me and I could feel the hard evidence of his need pressed against my hip. He got up and grabbed a condom from his jeans. His naked back was as beautiful as his front, but . . .

  “Um, Jack, what is that?” I asked, pointing to the large giraffe that covered a good portion of his back.

  “What’s what?” he asked, tearing the wrapper off the condom.

  “On your back. Turn around.” I sat up.

  Jack froze. I watched as he racked his brain for an acceptable reason he had a humongous giraffe on his back . . . I couldn’t think of one and apparently neither could he.

  “It was a long time ago. I was drunk,” he said, crawling back onto the bed and attempting to kiss me into forgetting he had a giraffe on his back. He clearly didn’t know me as well as he thought he did. A large ink giraffe was not something I could let go of.

  “Do you like giraffes?” I asked, trying to turn him over to get a better look.

  “Goddamnit, Rena, you’re killing the mood here.”

  “I’m not killing it,” I giggled. “Your avoidance of the giraffe is.”

  “Okay—” He blew out a long exasperated sigh. “I lost a bet in college. I had a choice between a giraffe and Jay Leno. I chose the giraffe. End of story.”

  I bit my lip hard as I imagined a huge Jay Leno tattooed across his back. “I’m glad you picked the giraffe,” I mumbled, praying the Inappropriate Laughing Monster would not rear her ugly head and completely ruin the evening.

  “Can we just fuck?” he asked, clearly expecting more giraffe questions from me.

  I decided to surprise him. “Yep, let’s fuck.” I grinned. I’d get back to the giraffe another time. Soon.

  He heaved a huge sigh of relief and repositioned himself at my very wet and ready entrance. He slowly pushed into me. I closed my eyes at the amazing sensation.

  “Open your eyes,” Jack commanded. “Look at me.”

  I did. I didn’t think anything could be more intimate than making love with him and his giraffe, but I was wrong. Very wrong. I had never felt so vulnerable in my life as when we watched each other while he entered me. It was empowering and frightening.

  He studied me as I adjusted to his body filling mine. I closed my eyes and he stopped. I looked up at him, startled.

  “Don’t you want more?” he asked, inching a bit more into me.

  “Yes,” I gasped.

  “Then watch me when I fuck you.”

  “Yes,” I whimpered.

  With a quick deep thrust he buried himself completely inside me. My body convulsed around his and I cried out. The physical shock of his size was something my body desired, yet fought against. He started slow and steady, but my writhing and bucking wildly beneath him interfered with his rhythm. Before I knew it, he was pounding into me with a force and speed that should have kil
led me dead. It didn’t. I met every thrust with joyful abandon.

  He gripped me by my hair and slanted his mouth against mine. His cock and tongue matched each other stroke for stroke. I wrapped my legs around his waist, giving him deeper access. He growled his approval. My orgasm swallowed me like an inferno. I sucked his tongue into my mouth and gripped him inside me with a force that sent shock waves rippling through my body and shudders rocking his.

  “You’re mine,” he whispered. “Say it.”

  “I’m yours,” I gasped, gripping his shoulders.

  “Say it again,” he demanded.

  I did. I’m fairly sure I chanted it as my world kept exploding in gorgeous colors all around me. Jack’s body tensed and he shouted as he came, knocking me into the land of impossibility . . . another orgasm.

  Chapter 22

  Soreness from working out is one thing . . . soreness from having the best sex of my whole fucking life was an entirely different kind of pain. The really good kind. Giraffe or no giraffe, Jack was rockin’ in the sack. I glanced over at my future husband and sighed. He had no idea what I had planned for him, but as far as I was concerned he would have no choice. Anyone who can boink me into unconsciousness after giving me multiple big Os was not going anywhere. Ever.

  “Hi.” He grinned, stretching his yummy body.

  “Hi yourself,” I giggled, running my hand over his sexy morning stubble.

  “Do you want to go to breakfast?” he asked. “Or can I have you for breakfast?”

  “Ohh,” I flopped back on my pillow, cursing Evangeline for the millionth time. “I can’t do either. I have to go to work.”

  “Call in sick,” he whispered, cupping my breast in his big hand and moving my hand down to greet his very excited happy camper.

  “I wish I could,” I laughed, trying to roll away, “but I can’t. I have a deadline.”

  He wrapped me in his arms and kissed the top of my head. “Okay, but you have to promise we can do it in my car after your parents’ anniversary party tonight.”