Anything But Vanilla

by Ellis, Madelynne

  Sometimes he liked to imagine he could get by without sex. That he could genuinely lock himself up in this fort and not bother with the world outside. But he’d tried celibacy once. Gone stir crazy in a matter of weeks and then ended up wanking himself stupid, before hitting Torquay as though he meant to shag every inhabitant. Few good memories existed of that weekend. Not so this evening. He’d hardly believed his luck when he opened the door to find her peeping in at him from the gloom like some sort of sea sprite.

  She had an earthy sort of beauty: faerie-like angularity set within an oval face, the delicate bone structure combined with a wide, giving mouth. Everything about that mouth said she was a girl who liked to suck. Maybe he should have pressed more to find out. In his mind’s eye, he pictured her crouched over him, ready to dip her head and pull him deep.

  Not that he was ready to hand over that sort of power. He had issues on that score already.

  Ric instantly switched the scenario in his head, imagining her sitting, him standing. He cupped her bounteous breasts together, while he thrust his cock into the soft chasm between them. Every time his shaft peeped from between her breasts Kara dipped her chin and licked the tip of his cock.

  Damn – his hand closed around his shaft and began to pump – it’d been too long since he’d met a woman willing to roll with her desires. The last few he’d become embroiled with had been ridiculously coy and swore they wanted nothing but vanilla sex. Not so Kara. It hadn’t mattered what he’d suggested, she’d gone with it. She’d let him lead, and trusted him enough to guarantee her pleasure.

  Fuck! This was no good. Ric snatched his hands away from his crotch. He clenched his fists by his sides. Now he was randy as a satyr again, with only his palm to relieve him. Well, his palm and a few toys he liked to torture himself with. There were loops of silk cord knotted around the posts of his bed for good reason and they were fuck all to do with being tied up. Ric preferred restrictions to restraints. He preferred to keep his hands away from his cock. Wanking oneself was altogether too easy, too addictive and just didn’t relieve any of the strain.

  That which is harder to attain is always more rewarding. Saying it didn’t help with the cockstand he was facing. Ric splayed his fingers over the eiderdown. He lay breathing in a steady rhythm for several moments, but his erection wasn’t going away. Masturbating would be a poor substitute for the gorgeous woman occupying the bed across the hall, but with any luck it might get him to sleep tonight.

  You sad bastard.

  He stretched sidewards to open the top drawer in the bedside table, only for his phone to buzz just as he closed his hand around a bottle of lube. He kept hold of the lube, and answered the phone with his free hand. ‘Yeah,’ he drawled into the receiver.

  ‘We need to talk,’ the husky voice of his favourite fuck buddy purred into his ear.

  Shit! Not now. ‘I can’t imagine what about.’

  A deep sigh reached him from the other end of the phone line. ‘Cut the bollocks, Ric. We’ve known each other too long. Credit me with some brains.’

  ‘Fine. I assume this is why you’re not over here now.’ They had a semi-regular date. Shagathon Sunday, Zach had once branded it. It would certainly have been that if Kara had arrived in the middle of what they normally got up to. Considering her reaction to that group shot, he didn’t think she’d have balked at a threesome with two guys.

  Ric flicked open the top of the lube and slathered it over his hungry dick. ‘Wouldn’t this have been more appropriate face to face?’ he asked sweetly.

  There was a lip-chewing pause on the other end of the line, before Zach’s deep voice rumbled, ‘I know what happens when I come near you.’

  ‘You come,’ he quipped in return. ‘Isn’t that the whole point? That’s what fuck buddies do.’

  ‘Stop calling me that.’

  Ric formed a ring with his fingers and began to work his cock. The silky lube made for an extra-smooth glide that eased his overwrought nerves. Now he had two lovely images in his head. One of Kara’s cunt clasping him, and one of Zach’s delightfully wicked tongue lighting up an array of very sensitive nerve-endings.

  ‘Shit! Are you with someone?’ Zach cursed.

  The sounds of his self-loving must have reached Zach’s ears, or maybe it was the catch in his breath each time his palm rubbed over his glans. ‘Not just at the minute, but the new owner of Beachcomber’s Barn has arrived. She’s staying in my guest room,’ Ric confessed.

  ‘You fucking …’ Zach’s words trailed off. ‘Uh!’

  Ric refused to let the frustration in Zach’s voice rile him. He hadn’t changed in any way. Zach was the one suddenly murmuring about commitment after years of them enjoying a very casual and open relationship. They’d always had other partners. ‘Shall I tell you about her?’ He deliberately made his voice low and sexy. They often traded sexual encounter stories. Sometimes it really helped to set the mood.

  ‘What else do I need to know, beside the fact that you fucked her?’

  ‘Hey, needs must when your date doesn’t arrive. And you’re hardly a saint yourself.’

  Several moments of uncomfortable silence stretched between them, during which all Ric could hear was the unsteady sound of Zach’s breaths. ‘You could still come over,’ he suggested. His cock pulsed at the idea, giving a little nod of approval.

  ‘Oh, yeah. I’m an idiot like that.’ Zach began to laugh. ‘You screwed it up, didn’t you? Just like normal. What did she tell you that you were – vermin, a bastard, a right fucking wanker? All of which are true, by the way.’

  ‘I did not screw anything up.’ Ric bristled. ‘I’ll have you know that my new tenant is a very amenable lady.’

  ‘You’re a fuckwit. And I’ll be amazed if she’s talking to you in the morning.’

  Why was it so hard for people to accept the truth? ‘What’s so wrong with being honest?’ It was a shame more folks didn’t appreciate it. He didn’t pretend. He didn’t offer anything he wasn’t prepared to give. Zach had always understood that – well, until recently. If it had been anyone else bleating on about having a proper relationship, he’d have severed the damn thing on the spot. For some reason he hadn’t been able to do that to Zach, perhaps because they’d been together for so long.

  Zach understood him, when few others did.

  Zach had been there for him.

  ‘The problem isn’t with being honest,’ his lover patiently explained. ‘It’s with how you drop the bombshell. For someone with such ace seduction skills, you’re fucking awful at letting people down gently.’

  Oh hell! They’d moved on from talking about Kara again. This was about to turn into another session of ‘Poor old Zach’ and how unfair it was that he wasn’t valued or appreciated, and how crass Ric was for not wanting something deep and meaningful.

  ‘Go on, call me some more names,’ Ric insisted, planning on derailing that line of talk before it started. ‘Purr those sexy thoughts into my ear.’

  There was a pause, during which Zach clearly held the phone to his chest. The echoes of the snort he made still rumbled down the line. ‘I did not phone in order to get you off,’ Zach said peevishly, although Ric guessed that the guy was also smiling. ‘We need to have a proper talk, and, just so you know, it hurts to hear you’re still shagging around.’

  ‘So talk. I’m all ears.’ Ric tucked the phone receiver between his shoulder and ear, and then he grasped the silken cord above his head with one hand, while his other continued to provide vital life support to his needy dick. He used his strength to lift himself so that he was doing tiny pull-ups that caused his muscles to burn, and his erection to drum against his stomach each time he strained.

  ‘Tell me how you want it to be, Zach. Do we fuck more or less in your head, once you’ve wrung a confession of undying love out of me?’

  ‘What would you say if I said yes?’

  ‘I’d say describe it to me. Convince me. Prove to me that a dose of romanticism is going to help me get of
f.’

  ‘Ric, my sister’s in the next room.’

  ‘Then keep your voice low. Come on, Zach, talk to me. You know I like the sound of your voice, especially when it gets all low and husky.’ Breathless. That was the word. ‘How’s love gonna change things?’

  It wouldn’t, as far as Ric was concerned, at least not in any positive way. It only meant he’d be beholden to someone in a way he didn’t wish to be. He’d been there before. The episode hadn’t really done a lot for him. He barely registered what Zach was saying. It didn’t matter. What was important was that just the suggestion that he was even considering the issue was enough to provoke the response he wanted out of Zach.

  When Zach fell silent on the other end of the line, Ric knew it was because he was slowly sliding the teeth of his zip apart.

  Ric waited, bating his breath. Prickles spread out with increasing urgency from his loins and crossed his belly and thighs. ‘Zach, are you still there?’

  ‘I’m here,’ Zach eventually said, in a ridiculously husky purr that fanned up the heat in Ric’s groin.

  Ric strained against the cord, holding himself still in anticipation of his lover’s next words. He formed Zach’s image whole in his head. Brown hair falling in a haphazard fashion over his face, his teeth drawn into a pseudo snarl, while, lower down, his thick cock sprang up from its nest of wiry curls. Zach was pretty much hairy all over, but there was something especially appealing about the thatch around his loins.

  ‘I’m picturing us together. Your cock and mine, pressed close, like that time in the shower. Do you remember that time?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Rivulets of water had streamed over their bodies. White condensation had steamed up all the glass. They’d started off soaping one another, and getting hard because of it. Ric had wrapped his palm around both of their cocks and began working them together. In his head, he relived those slow, slow tugs upon his cock. The sensation of Zach’s cock rubbing smoothly against his own literally stole his breath away.

  ‘Do you remember what came next?’ Zach asked.

  God, did he. The memory caused blood to surge into his loins. His balls grew tight as his erection surged.

  Mostly, Ric preferred to fuck rather than be fucked, but once in a while, not very often at all, he’d consent to switching things around. That night in the shower had been one of those occasions. Zach had pinned him, face to the wall. His stomach had been pressed tight to the cold tiles, his cock sandwiched between their hardness and the desperate heat of his body. Zach had nuzzled up against the back of his neck. He’d rained kisses there, as he’d directed his cock to the ring of muscle he was desperate to try.

  ‘Remember how it felt. You were so goddamn tight that I could hardly move inside you. And like an inferno.’

  Ric gripped the phone more tightly, hanging on to every word. He no longer held the silk cord, but concentrated on the swoop and swish of his palm riding up and down his cock. His hips began to lift. His stomach muscles cramped with each thrust. On the other end of the line, Zach’s breathing had become loud and breezy. But not so loud that it masked the sweet sound of his hand rubbing his dick.

  ‘Is that what you want to do? You want to fuck me again?’ Ric asked.

  ‘I want to get deep inside you. So deep, that it feels like we’re merging. That I’m fucking through you right into your cock. But I’m not going to touch you, not unless you beg. I’m going to take my fill while I hold your wrists so you can’t jerk yourself off. Then when you come you’ll know it’s all because of me fucking you and not because of any damn thing else. Do you understand me, Ric? I’m going to make you come because my cock is in your arse and you’re loving it.’

  Right now, he was making him come just imagining it. It no longer mattered that it was his palm doing the physical work. The essential spark arose from Zach’s words. ‘Oh God! I’m almost there.’ Ric gave a series of airless gulps. His back arched so that his forehead pressed tight against the headboard as his body fired up to release its gift.

  He listened to Zach trying to stifle the same moan he always made the second before he came. Whatever he used as a muffler didn’t exactly do a good job. Zach continued to whimper until he was completely spent. ‘Shit!’ he swore. ‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’ Muddled up in the stream of expletives, Ric caught the sounds of footsteps and doors banging. ‘Rest of the family is back. I need to clean up. Gotta go. We’ll finish this later.’ He hung up before Ric could say a thing. No matter, he was content to wallow in his post-orgasmic glow, instead of having to deal with the high emotions that were likely to have followed.

  Deep down, he did love Zach. He just wasn’t about to tell him that. And it absolutely wasn’t going to stop him fucking Kara.

  Ric roused himself enough to wipe the pool of semen from his stomach. Then he settled back down and thought of his guest. Dependent on how things panned out in the morning, she might make a very nice alternative playmate until Zach pulled his head out of his arse and stopped insisting on exclusivity and a boatload of lovey-dovey stuff. Hell, even after that, maybe they could have fun together.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Kara pre-empted any kind of showdown or breakfast weirdness with Ric the next morning by skipping out on him at sunrise. Since the island stood little more than a mile across, she figured it’d be easy enough to spot an unoccupied barn.

  Ric’s study still reeked of sex, when she went in to retrieve the barn keys. They lay exactly where she’d dropped them the night before. For a moment the memories of their loving made her pause. She didn’t blame him for giving her the brush-off. It was only what she’d done to Jack the night before. What irked her about the experience was her own desire to prolong the encounter. She’d genuinely wanted to spend the night with him.

  Well, it hadn’t happened, and that was that. Kara bustled herself out into the fresh air. Barely dawn: the sky still held the purple edge of night. A bracing wind blew in off the Channel. Instead of taking the path back to the bay, Kara scrambled down the dirt track to the left of the bridge. Several nettle stings later she crossed a stone boundary wall and spied her new home perched on the headland overlooking a sandy cove dotted with enormous rocks. Her thoughts immediately cast back to Ric’s promise of anytime, anyplace, I’m so going to strip you naked and fuck you in the cove that sits right on your doorstep. It didn’t take a close inspection to know this was the location he’d meant. From the track that skirted the cliff top she could see the iron rings fastened to the rocks. One presumed they were intended to tie boats to but, given Ric’s feudal claims about his family’s past, she couldn’t be sure. Either way, it wasn’t something she had time to dwell on right now. Nope, she was not going to think about mister lean, sexy and emotionally stunted, not one itty bit. The ball lay in his court. She had no problem with casual sex.

  Chris’s purchase proved to be dark and cobwebby. It was also minus electricity and hot or cold running water and empty of food, just when Kara’s stomach had woken to the idea of breakfast.

  ‘Shit!’ She didn’t want to go back to Ric’s to ask for help. There had to be someone else living on this accursed rock who could assist. There’d definitely been some sort of shop in the bay where she’d left her car. With any luck, they’d know the relevant numbers to call. She had to head down to the car to pick up her luggage anyway.

  Several vehicles occupied the bay when she reached it, including an ice-cream van that already sported a five-deep queue, and an enormous camper van. An assortment of kids in shorts and cagoule-wearing tourists milled around the bay, carrying camping equipment and chasing after balls. One or two were scrambling over the seaweed-strewn rocks in order to fish amongst the rock pools.

  Kara made her way to the building she’d spied the night before. THE BUNKER, the sign said. It had a concrete frontage, but clearly made use of a natural fissure in the cliff face. A plaque outside detailed its history as an ammunitions store and a guard-post some time during the nineteenth century. Inside, the
windowless structure felt decidedly cave-like. The air had a damp, sea-salty quality to it despite twin dehumidifiers rumbling by the counter. She’d hoped for supplies, but what faced her was a barrage of tat; tinkling wind-chimes, vast arrays of semiprecious stones, buckets, spades and an awful lot of overpriced seaside-themed holiday gifts. There was not one edible item in the whole shop, unless you considered Kendal Mint Cake edible, nor did there appear to be a shopkeeper.

  Downcast, Kara mooched over to the ice-cream van and joined the queue there.

  ‘What can I get you?’ the serving girl asked her from beneath the brim of a baseball cap.

  ‘A bacon butty,’ Kara replied wistfully. Given the way her stomach was imitating a chorus line, she needed to put something inside it, and quick. She supposed she’d have to nip across to the mainland for supplies once she’d found out how to turn her utilities on.

  The girl shook her head. ‘Sorry, no can do. Hot drinks and ice cream only, and we don’t do anything overly fancy, none of those frappe-latte-mocha things.’ She raised a hand to point out the blackboard hanging from a bracket secured to the outside of the van.

  ‘Fine, I’ll have a ludicrously oversized black coffee and an ice cream then,’ Kara replied without giving the board much more than a glance.

  ‘Flavour?’

  ‘Anything but vanilla.’ She was already regretting the notion of something quite so sweet for breakfast, but she had no idea how far it was to the nearest supermarket, and her stomach absolutely couldn’t wait.

  ‘My kind of girl.’

  Kara jerked her chin upwards, half expecting to find Ric, hands in pockets and sporting an enormous grin. Instead a man with much shorter brown hair stood looking at her. It was the guy from the night before last. ‘Jack?’ She furrowed her brow straining to remember.

  ‘Zach,’ he corrected

  ‘Zach, right.’ What the hell was he doing here? When she’d left Zach on the quayside, she hadn’t expected to cross his path again. Doing so made things awkward. It placed certain expectations on them that she hadn’t sought. ‘What are you doing here?’