by Catori, Ava
One part of my brain was sending out alarm warnings. Of course he was smooth, seduction was his thing but he was a love-them-and-leave-them kind of guy. Actually in his mind, it was probably more like fuck-them-and-leave-them. Even though he had sounded convincing, his claim to liking domestic stuff and seeing himself with a family was probably part of the sales spiel. One night with him was a full package, a girl could believe she was being seduced for the long run and not simply a hit and run.
Another part of me--one that had been smothered by years and years of control--told my brain to shut up for once and enjoy the ride. Skewed logic took over. Who cared what his intentions were? If they were not long term, it was fine. Actually it was better that way. I would get a roll in the hay, probably a very pleasant one to judge by the way the girls went crawling back. It would be just one night or maybe, if I got lucky, a few nights, but I didn't want more, did I?
And then all inner dialogue ceased and I just felt. And everything felt just right, his hands on my back, my arms around his neck, my head on his shoulder, the first kiss on my neck, his lips grazing up, the spontaneous movement of my face as he finished his ascending journey.
Our lips met, first tentatively, his brushed against mine a few times silently begging me to open and let him in. And as soon as I did, we stopped pretending to dance. We barely swayed in rhythm, too busy molding our bodies together. I breathed through him and marveled at how well his hard planes fit against my plentiful curves. The sweetness of it all took my breath away and when the song ended, I probably moaned in regret as he pulled away.
He didn't smirk or act arrogant in any way as I feared he would. Instead he was attentive and cautious as if he truly cared.
Our entire evening was delightful. I wrapped myself shamelessly around him on the ride back home, ignoring the alarms going off in the back of my head.
If he wanted to stay the night, I would gladly welcome him in. I couldn't think of a more perfect way to christen my new bed.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The music kept our time, and our bodies molded together. We couldn't get close enough. Holding her tightly, I smelled the delicious fragrance of her skin. When I tucked my face into her hair, the smell of her rosemary, and mint shampoo filled my nostrils. I parted my lips and grazed them against her tender neck. I ached to taste her and suckled her skin. Intimacy enveloped us.
With each touch of my lips, her back arched the slightest bit. She pressed into me, and I didn't let go. I continued to caress her with tiny kisses, and making my way slowly up to her earlobe, I nuzzled and nibbled it.
When the song ended, we parted, almost not wanting to. Our fingers laced together as we walked to our seats. My cock strained against my jeans, my erection desperate to get out. My need for more Barbara was growing faster than I could keep up with. I was drenched in desire and thirsty for passionate kisses. "Want to get out of here?"
She purred and climbed back onto my bike without hesitation this time. As we headed back to Ocean Crest, she held me tightly. We were pressed together as if we were one, her past reservations gone. She wrapped herself around me perfectly. It would only have been that much better if she was naked.
The night felt right. The air rushed at us as we cut down the highway. I drove over the causeway and made my way to her house. I parked my bike behind her car.
"Do you want to come inside?" she asked after having climbed off. I ached for her arms to be around me.
She didn't have to ask twice. I nodded, took her hand, and together we went in. There was a new bed upstairs calling to us with plenty of room to roll around on. I didn't wait for the invitation; instead I led her up the stairs and gently pulled her to me. There was no hesitation on her part. She was ready to continue our dance.
I held her in my arms, realizing something was going on between us. I didn't know what it was, but I liked what I felt. I gave her an out. I wanted to make sure she wanted to move forward. "Are you sure about this?"
"I think so," she said, and then corrected. "Yes, I am."
She was struggling to let go, but I knew she was as hungry as I in the moment. I took her at her word, then ran my hand through her hair. A small kiss to her forehead seemed to relax her. Barbara closed her eyes, ready to join me in bed. She flicked the light off, an invitation to continue.
I nuzzled the base of her earlobe and dotted kisses down her neck. My hands settled on the curve of her back, and then slid a little lower. With a slight squeeze, she moaned quietly into the night. I needed more of her. I needed to feel her skin against mine, to get lost in her curves, and to hold her and drink her in.
I drew my finger across her cheek and around her jawline, before trailing it lower. I stopped at the collar of her shirt and played at the edge. Her breathing was slow and deep, steady, lost in the sensation of my touch. Leaning forward, I kissed her succulent neck, my hands now creeping to the bottom of her shirt. It was in my way. I needed to consume her. I wanted to taste more. Together we lifted her shirt over her head. My lips and desire moved lower. Her bra still clung to her breasts, teasing me with the cleavage that waited. It was quite a visual. I wanted to bury my face in it and get lost forever. She was already reaching in her back to release her bra, aching for my wet kisses to continue their path.
As she unleashed her breasts, I cupped one, kneading it tenderly. Soft, warm, and calling to me, I caressed her body, enjoying each soft whisper of pleasure that escaped. Her nipples pebbled, beckoning for attention. Lowering my head, I sucked one between my lips, first gently and then with a nibble. Her soft moans grew louder. I needed her. I stopped trying to figure out why, and gave in to my hunger and ache. Her hips swayed with me, her back arched, and with every lick and suckle, she was closer to being mine.
Barbara tugged at my shirt, nudging me to remove it. I only pulled away for a second to lift my shirt over my head. I tossed it to the ground and pressed against her. The heat of our bodies offered comfort, security, a common bond. Her breasts called to me again. I caressed and played with her full figure, teasing her with slow kisses and licks. Sucking a nipple between my lips, one hand roamed to the familiar curve of her ass.
I had to stop and shift for a moment, my erection pressed tightly against my jeans. It seemed to be a common state for it when I was around her. My cock wanted out, but I needed to move slowly. I wanted her to know there was a reason I was here, and she wasn't just another notch on the bed post. She deserved to feel special tonight, and I had no intention of giving her anything less. Slow down, big boy, take a deep breath.
We finally found our way out of the remainder of our clothing. Each piece tossed aside, and together we climbed onto her new king size bed. I'd be the one to christen it. I pulled her onto me, wanting to feel the softness of her body, her breasts against my chest, and her legs wrapped along my sides. The dampness between her legs teased me as we continued our slow dance of kisses, each growing more passionate. I was more than ready, but wanted to pleasure her first.
I wrapped my arms around her and rolled, so I was now over her. I stopped and gazed into her eyes. We were silent, but we both felt the connection. There was a spark, a fire, a new chemistry that took us by surprise.
Her lips were luscious, parting gently, wanting more, and I gladly obliged. Long, deep, hungry kisses were only the start. I slipped away from her lips, and drew kisses over the tender skin of her neck, across her chest, stopping to play with her breasts once again, before moving lower. I needed to taste her, to inhale her nectar, and to consume what her body was willing to give.
She understood and parted her legs slightly as I inched lower. I breathed in her sumptuous fragrance and parted her lips with my fingers, before pressing my tongue to her clit and then down the full length of what lay between her lips. I lapped up her wetness and groaned as my desire climbed higher. I wanted to feel her body buck and grind against me, to hear her moans as she came, and take her to heights she hadn't known before. Every sigh and groan was another win.
> Barbara's hands were in my hair, guiding me to the spots she enjoyed most. She brazenly held on, tilting her hips higher, aiming to get my tongue deeper inside. She was no wallflower or silent movie in bed. Her passion swept out like a faucet left open wide. Her thighs pressed tighter to me, as I took her to the edge. Just as she was nearing, about to explode, I plunged two fingers into her and sucked on her clit, helping to light the fireworks. Her voice carried through the room, her lust washing over us.
Knowing she'd been taken care of, it was time for me to finally release. I needed to be inside her, to feel the warm, velvet glove wrap around my cock. I cussed under my breath, realizing my condom was still in my wallet, in my jeans, on the floor. I had to disengage, but I dreaded pulling away. Quickly, with a small apology, I dove for my jeans, whipped out my wallet and tore out the condom. As fast as I could, I tore the edge of the foil packet with my teeth, and wrapped myself with the sheath. It didn't matter if she was on the pill; I always wrapped myself for my own protection.
She was waiting for me. I gently nudged her, suggesting she roll over and slide up onto her knees. I wanted to look at her round, soft ass as I pushed my dick all the way inside her. I wanted my balls tightly against her opening, and don't think I wouldn't shove them in if I could. I'd have to settle for the rhythmic tap of them against her instead.
She shifted, realizing what I wanted, and parted her legs awaiting my entrance. Double groans filled the air as I pushed the head of my cock into her waiting wetness: she from my cock spreading her, and me from being clasped by her tight opening. My hands squeezed her ass, and then settled on her hips, before I finally penetrated her fully. In and out, faster, harder, deeper, her ass jiggled with each movement. I wouldn't hold out long. I reached around of her, and circled her nub with my finger. Her body gripped me, a soft pulsing inside. Barbara groaned and called out my name as I finally let go. I felt the stream of pleasure race from my body.
Collapsing beside her, I sighed. "Wow, I wasn't expecting that."
Barbara smiled at me and then giggled. "Wow is right. How am I supposed to let you out of my bed after that? Will there be a repeat performance?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Catching my breath, I didn't know what to make of his comment. I flipped to my side and gazed at his perfect body next to mine. Was it surprise I caught in his eyes before he turned his face to stare at the ceiling? The wrinkles on his forehead told me he was thoughtful. I almost reached out tentatively to him and decided not to push. I shivered.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently his hand searching for mine.
"Cold a bit," I lied trying to put my guard up again.
"That's an easy fix." Ryder bent over to pick up the quilt fallen from the bed, giving me a quick view of his well sculpted back. He pulled it over us and extending one arm, invited me to come closer.
Craving the connection we shared a few minutes ago, I rolled over, nestled against him and mumbled, "Better now."
And I was. So much better, I couldn't trust myself to speak. Overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions that washed through me. I still basked in the glow of the incredible sex we shared. It was as if Ryder knew my body better than myself.
His hand caressed my hair and I closed my eyes, face buried in his chest, breathing in his smell and trying to block all thoughts. Whatever we had now would be gone by Monday. We would be strangers again because I was the bitch who came to wreck the town.
"A penny for your thoughts," he said. I laughed and felt him stiffen as he asked, "What's funny?"
"I'm not laughing at you," I explained. "It's just I thought only women asked that sort of question."
"Well, you were wrong." He relaxed and started playing with my hair again. "Nosy and controlling men do, too."
"So you're nosy and controlling?"
He remained silent for a bit and said, "Yeah, I guess that's how I am."
"You mean you don't know?"
It was his turn to laugh. It was a delightful sound. A deep rumble that shook his entire chest. "No, I had no clue I would be so curious." I raised my head to look at him and watched him say, "I don't usually hang around for snuggles or soul searching conversation."
I shook my head and rolled away on my back. This was too much. Propping himself on one elbow, he frowned. "What's the matter?"
I sighed. "Listen, Ryder, you don't have to butter me up." He frowned. "You're drop dead handsome, you're smooth, you're a fabulous lover, yeah, really incredible." The smile which had started to grow at the beginning of my sentence vanished as I said, "But I know your type and honestly, I don't blame you for playing the field, so please, don't treat me like the naive little girl I once was." He opened up his mouth to protest but I held one hand up to indicate I wasn't finished yet and he waited.
"What we have--whatever this is--it's fine. There's no need to pretend it is anything more. At best we'll be friends with benefits for the duration of my stay. I have no illusion and enough respect for you to let you know I understand the rules, so please, don't play games with me."
He shook his head and appeared incredulous. Was I the first woman who didn’t fall for his line? "Barbara, you don't get it. I'm trying to tell you I'm not playing."
I put a finger to his lips to silence him and fight the tears coming to my eyes as I said as softly as I could to mask the hurt this conversation was causing me, "We've never been in the same league so, no sense to pretend."
In a second, he jolted out of bed and picked up his clothes scattered on the floor. Sitting on the edge of the bed he dressed muttering something under his breath. Suddenly feeling very self conscious, I wrapped myself in the quilt to sit next to him.
"I don't get it. I'm telling you it's fine, that you don't have to pretend, so why are you upset?"
Ryder turned away from me. By the time he stood, I felt he was miles away. When he stared down at me again I almost recoiled from the look in his eyes. He glared as if I was the most repulsive creature ever and he couldn't remember what had ever possessed him to touch me.
"I'll lock behind me and will be back on Monday," he said with a voice so cold it sent chills to my bones. "I know we're not in the same league at all. I didn't forget you've climbed the ladder and all that jazz while I remained here, but I'm a man of my word so I'll finish what I started. Oh, and since I'm not too proud to take honest work when I can find it, I'll be happy to do anything else you need me to do. Just leave me a note on the kitchen table and I'll take care of it."
I remained immobile on the side of the bed trying to understand what had gone wrong. Only after I heard the sound of his bike roaring away in the night did Ryder's words sink in allowing me to realize he'd completely misunderstood what I said. What a fool! He thought I'd meant I was better than him! As if I would ever judge a man by his level of education. No wonder he was furious. But now I was upset he thought me so superficial.
Laying down on the bed I considered texting him but couldn't figure out how to word it. I wanted to spell it out for him, but wasn't about to put in writing that it wasn’t our academic achievements but his athletic body and my plentiful curves. How does a woman say she's sorry for being unclear and thank a man for demonstrating, for her greatest pleasure, he appreciated her full body? I laughed at myself. That's one thing they didn't teach me in college.
So instead of calling him, I convinced myself it was for the best if I left it. I was going to take Ryder's father's job away and that alone was reason enough to let him go.
Wrapping my arms around one pillow, I was surprised to find his smell lingering. The pleasure I found breathing it in as I fell asleep was bittersweet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I never took her for an arrogant bitch, but apparently I was wrong. My mind was blown. As the words spilled from her mouth, I reeled. Did she really just say that? I guess I was a good fuck, there to fill her needs. She had the last laugh. Go home to Ocean Crest and crush everyone. It stung, but once the bite wore off, I decided I didn't want her an
yway. What happened had happened, a one-night stand.
Life went on, or so I thought, until a week later I realized it hadn't been enough to shred me to pieces. She was here to destroy the town as well. She was poison. Anyone close enough would be burned. I'm glad it ended like it did. It was for the best.
When word got out that the factory would close at the end of the month, the force of the blow would hit hard. Families were going to be crushed. They wouldn't be able to pay their mortgages, to get by, to maintain the humble lifestyle they knew. They'd be forced to start over somewhere else, if they could afford the move. I had slept with the enemy - a viper in disguise.
My father's soul was broken. He pleaded with her, offered to cut his work force, whatever it took, but it was too late. She said it wasn't personal, but after what went down a few days before, I wasn't so sure.
Of course, she was thorough. It wasn't enough to just shut it down, she made sure to stress that this wasn't a temporary situation and they'd be selling off the equipment along with the building. It was a done deal. How would Ocean Crest bounce back from this, when the factory was the main source of work for so many families?
I hated that I had to go back to her home to finish the work. I'd stand by my word. I said I'd do the job and finish it. I'd be sure to visit when she wasn't around. I had no interest in seeing Barbara any time soon. As far as I was concerned, we were through.
Wrapping up at the shop, I jumped in my truck and headed to her house, knowing she'd be working, handling details with my father at the factory. I'd let myself in, do my work, and slip out before she came home.
I didn't expect to see an Aston Martin parked in front of her house. A Diavolo Red Vanquish, no less. At well over two hundred thousand dollars, it was the closest I'd get to one. I was pretty sure I'd never see one this clean. A slender man with dark blond hair bent over the machine.
