by Dark Angel
Yep. Time to get out of here.
As if we’re both thinking the same thing, we stand and move toward each other. “Your place or mine?” I say, grabbing her hand and lifting it to my mouth.
She laughs again and shakes her head. “You’re outrageous, you know that?”
“You may have mentioned it.”
“Completely full of yourself.”
I nod, grinning. “Basically.”
“Does anyone ever tell you no?”
“Not often,” I admit, then twirl a strand of her hair around my finger. “But you did. Up until about ten minutes ago. You going to tell me no again?”
I tell myself it’s okay if she does. If she isn’t feeling this pull toward me like I feel toward her.
But the intense relief that hits me takes me by surprise when she says, “Not tonight.”
Avery gives me a smile that’s full of intention and lust, and my cock hardens instantly.
“So, what’ll it be?” I murmur. “Your place or mine?”
“Considering we’re just around the corner, mine.”
Fuck yeah.
I pull her to me, right there in the middle of the restaurant, and frame her face with my hands. Then I kiss her senseless.
Her hands roam up my chest, fisting in my shirt like they did this morning, and she kisses me back, everything I suspected about this woman spot on.
All that wild, fiery passion comes out, unleashed in a single kiss that singes me from head to toe.
Holy hell. How can a single kiss make me feel like everything I’ve ever been missing but didn’t know I was missing is now standing right here in front of me?
She must feel it too because when she pulls away, she’s unsteady, clinging to me, unsteady as she stares into my eyes like she’s seeing me for the first time.
“Let’s go,” she says. “Now.”
I smile and wind my fingers through hers as I steer her out of the restaurant. It looks like I may have met my match.
Avery
If I’d been asked last week what I thought of Finn Turner, it would have been a one-hundred-eighty-degree difference from what I think now.
As we make our way into my apartment in a bit of a frenzy, our hands everywhere at once, roaming and clutching at each other in an effort to get our clothes off, I can’t help but wonder if it was fate that brought us together on the 6 Train the other morning. Maybe I’m a bit of a hippie, but that kind of thing totally jives with me.
It’s like we were meant to clash over this just so we could cum together. I see a lot of myself in him, that same intense passion, and I want more.
A lot more. Right now.
I just know that it’s going to be explosive.
Finn kicks the door shut, then pushes me back against it, his mouth taking mine like he’s possessed. His tongue plunges in, twining with mine in hot, needy strokes that drive me wild.
I fist my hands in his hair as he leaves a hot path of kisses down my neck. I kick my shoes off, moaning as his lips latch over my breast through the fabric of my dress. My hands shove his open shirt off his wide shoulders and down to the floor. I already took care of the buttons on the elevator up. I scratch my fingers across his back as he winds his hands around to my back and unzips my dress, shoving it down to the floor too. I step out and kick it away, standing there before him completely naked.
He reaches between my legs, then jerks back when his fingers meet hot, slick flesh. His eyes blaze with lust as he looks down then back up at me, his eyebrows flying up. “Going commando, are we, Ms. Samuels?”
I look down, feigning surprise. “Well, how do you think that happened?”
That slow, cocky smirk takes over, and I bite my lip at the needy pull it makes me feel deep in my pussy.
“Not complaining,” he murmurs, then he turns me around abruptly, pushing my chest against the door.
He grabs both my arms and lifts them above my head where I press them against the solid door to steady myself. His breath is warm and teasing as he leans in close behind me. “So sexy, Avery. You want to know the first thing I thought when I saw you standing in front of me on that train?”
I moan as he runs his hands back down my arms and over my shoulders to my sides, then around to my stomach before he lifts them and grabs my tits, squeezing hard.
“What?” I pant, unable to think past the feeling of his fingers expertly twisting my nipples. It’s like there’s a direct connection from them to my clit, each pinch drawing an echoing throb below.
“That I wanted to take all that wild energy, that smart mouth, that sassy attitude, and turn you into a needy mess. I wanted you to come apart in my arms. I wanted to know if you would drive me just as crazy, be just as passionate and free if I had you naked, my cock between your legs.” He grinds against my ass for emphasis.
“Finn,” I breathe. “Touch me.”
He chuckles. “Like this?”
Keeping one hand on my tit, he runs the other back down my stomach until it’s hovering just above my mound. I groan in frustration when he stops just shy of paradise.
“You’re going to make me crazy if you don’t touch me,” I say over my shoulder, bucking against him.
He uses his flattened palm to pull me back against his thick cock. I can feel it throbbing and straining against his pants, and all I want is for him to put it inside me.
My head falls back against his shoulder, and I drop my hands back to wrap around his head, pulling his mouth against my neck. He nips at the sensitive skin, sending a shiver across my skin.
“You like that?” he asks.
“Yes.” My voice is low, needy.
“How about this?” Finn slides his hand down, finally trailing his fingers through my wetness. “Fuck, Avery. Your pussy is so wet.”
I smile and tilt my head, giving him a saucy look. “All the better to fuck me with.”
“Why, Little Red Riding Hood, such a dirty mouth,” he chuckles.
“All the better to suck you with,” I whisper, barely able to get the words out when he slides his fingers inside me, making me a shaking, needy mess, just like he wanted.
“Be careful what you say. I just might hold you to it,” Finn says, continuing to fuck me with his fingers while he teases my clit with his thumbs. “I do believe my girl here likes it dirty.”
“So dirty.” Without warning, my body seizes, an orgasm coming out of nowhere. I clench and pulse around his fingers, crying out his name.
“Fuck, Avery. You are so damn hot.”
I sink back against him, my body shaking with the aftershocks, but still so needy. I’m nowhere near being done. I spin around, pulling at his zipper, yanking his pants to the floor.
Then we’re sinking to the floor together, so impatient we can’t even make it past the entryway.
Finn leans back, grabbing my hips and settling me over him. I grit my teeth at the feel of his hot, hard cock pressing against my pussy. My hips jerk, rubbing myself against him, feeling my juices coat him with slickness.
He groans. “Driving me wild. Need you.”
Grabbing my face, he hauls me down against him, threading his fingers through my hair and kissing me with even more urgency. “Condom,” he grits out, reaching for his discarded pants.
He comes up with one and hands it to me, his hands going back to my tits, kneading and squeezing them as I go back to grinding against his cock.
I rip it open, then lift my hips, taking his thick shaft in my hands between us. I wrap my fist around it and pump him a couple times, loving the way he groans, so vocal, giving himself over to the pleasure we’re sharing just as much as I am.
After I roll the condom on, I rub him back and forth over my entrance. “So big,” I murmur, excited to have the magnificent, massive cock inside me.
“All the better to fuck you with.” Finn smirks as he throws my words back at me.
I bite my lip, drawing out the moment as his hands trail down from my tits to my ass, his hands gripping
my hips tightly. Then he takes control, slamming me down on his cock with such force that I scream his name.
I sit on him, breathless, our eyes locked together as firmly as our bodies, taking him in for a moment before I begin to move.
I tilt my hips and grind my clit against him. Finn lifts me up and slams me down again. So hard. So good. We fuck each other with abandon, letting our bodies rule. As we give each other everything, biting and clawing and fucking like we can’t get enough, I feel my orgasm building. Stronger than the last one that took me over from out of nowhere.
“I’m about to cum,” I say.
Finn reaches down and flicks my clit with his thumb, and I careen right over the edge, clamping down on his cock as I cum. So hard.
A strangled moan escapes his lips as he swells up inside me, throbbing as he releases his own pleasure in hot jets.
Collapsing on his chest, my hair splayed out everywhere, I try to catch my breath. My heart thunders against his while he traces his fingers up and down my spine.
Finally, I push back up and look at him, biting my lip. “Now what?”
He arches his brow. “Ready to go again so soon?”
That’s not what I mean, but I’m surprised to find that I am. I feel like I could do this forever and it still wouldn’t be enough.
He smirks as if he knows what I’m thinking. “Yeah, me too.”
I grin back. “Good thing. I don’t think you realized just what you were getting into tonight. I’m insatiable,” I wink teasingly.
“I think I knew exactly what I was getting. And it’s even better than I expected.”
He pulls me back down to kiss me, slowly this time. It’s even better than I expected too. And when we finally make it to the bed and do it all over again, it’s even better than before. And even better the next time. And the next. And the next.
Tatum & Evan
Tatum
“Oh my god, Tatum, do you see that?”
“What?” I turn in my seat, trying to see what my best friend Ana is gawking at.
“That’s Finn Turner sitting over there. He is so hot. I’d totally do him.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m sure you would, Ana.” It’s no secret that Ana loves sex. I’m just not sure I can get down with how casually she treats it. She says that’s because I don’t know what I’m missing.
But she’s not wrong about Finn Turner. He’s super hot…and currently lip-locked with a blonde with killer purple streaks. I finger my own pink in my nearly black hair. Maybe I should try purple next time.
“You zoned out again, Tatum,” she gripes.
“Sorry. Sorry. Go ahead. I’m listening.” Though I’d rather not be. I take a bite of my cheesecake and try to focus on her talking about her new professor who she also said she would totally do.
I love her, but I swear she has a one-track mind. I smile and nod at all the appropriate times, downing bite after bite of dessert to keep from having to respond with what I think she should do about trying to seduce him. A terrible idea. Obviously. But there’s no point in telling Ana that because she’s going to do what she wants regardless.
I wonder what that would be like. To make a decision based entirely on how you feel at any given moment. It takes me months just to decide what color I want my hair. And even that breaks me out in hives sometimes. I’m definitely not a living-in-the-moment kind of girl. Losing my virginity was even a planned moment.
“Hello, you did it again.” Ana gives me an exasperated look, waving her hand in front of my face. “Where did you go off to this time?”
“Sorry,” I mumble again. “Professor Mason, is it?”
Ana rolls her eyes. “Catch up, Tatum. I just asked you if you’re busy tomorrow night.”
“Why?” I ask her, narrowing my eyes. There is no telling what she wants to drag me along to. I learned the hard way that I need all the deets up front.
She smiles like she has the best secret in the world. “I may or may not have scored some backstage passes to the Gravity concert tomorrow.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I say, dropping my fork. Then I look around in embarrassment when I realize how loud I was. More than one person is looking my way after that outburst.
“Oh my god, Ana. How?”
“Cydney’s friend that works at The Garden.”
Ana’s older sister has the hook up with her friend that does VIP something or other at Madison Square Garden. We occasionally get the leftovers when she has extra tickets no one else wants. But Gravity? There’s no way there should be leftover anything when it comes to that band.
Just the thought of the lead singer, Evan Anderson, is enough to send my pulse into overdrive. I’ve only been the biggest fangirl ever since I was fifteen. Well, at least in my own head. I don’t act like a fangirl. But inside I want to rip off those clothes and explore all that ink that covers his body, then lick him from head to toe.
Ana laughs. “I know exactly where your head just went.”
My face burns. So maybe a small part of me gets the allure of Ana’s sexcapades, but only in the context of Gravity, specifically Evan.
“I am so there,” I say, a huge grin on my face. Day. Made.
“Hang on there, babe.” She wags a finger in my face. “These passes are conditional.”
I immediately go on high alert. This cannot be good. Like, at all.
“How so?” I ask slowly.
She sits back and purses her lips, folding her arms over her chest and studying me for a moment before she speaks. “If you have the opportunity to meet Evan Fucking Anderson, you’re going to make the most of it.”
I’m not sure I like where this is going. “Again. How so?”
“Do your damnedest to get him to take you home with him. Or to his hotel. Whatever.” She waves her hand like the location doesn’t matter. As if that would be what has me looking at her like she’s lost her mind.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Ana. Come on.” I know she’s joking. She has to be.
But my friend looks dead serious.
“Nope. That’s part of the deal. Take it or leave it.” To make matters worse, she emphasizes her point by pulling out two tickets and waving them in front of my face.
This is the exact kind of thing I don’t do. Make crazy, impulsive decisions. The idea of just going up to Evan backstage and trying to seduce him has me practically spitting out the sip of water I just took to buy myself time before I answer.
“Come on, Tatum. Live in the moment.” She says it like a taunt. Like she can goad me into it because she knows that I hate the part of myself that analyzes everything to death. Sometimes I wish I could live in the moment.
“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity,” she continues, still waving those tickets around. Then she plays dirty. She pulls out her phone and opens it up, tapping until she pulls up a picture that she turns to show me.
It’s so ridiculous I can’t keep the laughter from bubbling out. It’s a glued together collage of a snapshot of fifteen-year-old me and a magazine clipping of Evan. I don’t know when she took a picture of it, but I need to get that off her phone the next chance I get. Like I said, closet fangirl right here.
“You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t like an actual picture of you and Evan.”
Of course I would. If I’m being totally honest, I’d even go so far as to say that I’d be up for a night with him. The problem is that I have no clue how to go about that. It’s just so not me that even the idea of attempting it has my throat locked up with tension.
“Don’t worry, Tatum,” she goes on, as if she’s oblivious to my torment, even though I know damn well she isn’t. “I’ll have your back.”
I smile wryly. “Great. You for a wingman. Just what I need.”
Ana claps, because that comment right there? She knows I’ve already caved.
I cover my face with my hands, my cheeks burning. Totally mad. I have to be. Because the girl who deliberates obsessively over the smallest choices—choco
late or vanilla? I’m telling you it’s a debate of epic proportions—has just made the decision on a whim to seduce Evan Anderson.
Oh god.
Evan
I strum the last chord on my guitar, the noise reverberating through the sold out arena as I wail the last angsty, screaming lyrics into the microphone.
“Thank you and goodnight!” I thrust my fist into the air as the crowd goes insane, the noise level deafening. Pure euphoria riots through my body, adrenaline and the energy coming from the audience mingling together for the best high ever.
I fucking love my life. Why wouldn’t I? I’m Evan Fucking Anderson, lead singer of one of the hottest rock bands in the country. Shit, probably the world.
I have money, looks, fame, and a line of girls a mile long waiting for me in every city. Just begging to fuck me. Doesn’t get much better than that.
I give my signature cocky grin to the audience, then jog off stage with my boys, ready to celebrate yet another kick-ass show.
We laugh and high-five each other, me and these guys that I’ve been with since we were practically kids, and amble into the dressing room to change out of our sweaty shirts before we head to the VIP meet-and-greet.
I hate the damn things. But it’s all part of the gig. And who knows? Maybe I’ll find a hot chick who’s interested in getting a little extra VIP attention.
I chuckle as I pull a fresh t-shirt over my head and run my fingers through my mop of dark hair. The night is young, and the women are easy. At least around Gravity they are.
The guys and I make our way to the backstage area where the meet-and-greet is set up, taking our place behind the ropes.
“You ready?” the bouncer asks.
I grin. “Send ‘em in, man.”
Five at a time, he brings them in and lines them up, and we spend the next fifteen minutes signing autographs and taking pictures with fans. It’s not the highlight of my evening—at all—but I take my time, making sure I give each fan plenty of attention. If it weren’t for them, we wouldn’t be where we are. That’s something I always try to remember.
