by Alyse Zaftig
I have good reason. If he knew, he’d run, just like everyone else in my life would.
I continued to look at his reflection, and with some detachment I realized how hot he really was. I would guess he was around my age, twenty-five, because he had that look of being in his absolute physical prime about him. He had on very worn-in jeans, and a navy blue t-shirt with “COLLEGE” stenciled on it in white letters. The t-shirt hugged his chest and arms and announced to the world that he had a beautifully toned upper body, while the jeans slouched in all the right places. My perusal took a minute or two, and once I was finished he still stood there next to me, without a word between us. Incredibly, my fangs began to grow.
I picked up my beer and drank half of it in one guzzle, while Sexy Guy did the same. Still, neither one of us spoke. I was floored that the vampire was making an appearance; I had controlled it for so long with an iron grip. I was always in control, always. This had served me well in my fledgling career as an attorney, it certainly helped me keep the monster at bay, and it helped me keep men at a distance.
But for some reason I was hurt by what this guy had said to me, which totally confused me. I figured it must have had something to do with my fight with the girls, because why would I give a shit what some stranger thought? I didn’t know how to handle the hurt, or what to do with it, so I placed it in a little corner of my mind and fell back on my second favorite emotion, indifference.
I finished my beer and put the bottle down on the bar with a thud, splashing some of the remnants onto my blazer.
“It’s been swell meeting you, Sexy Guy,” I said, as I bent down to grab my briefcase off the floor.
Shit, I just called him “Sexy Guy” out loud. Well, my prediction that this night would be my own brand of hell had come true.
As I swung back to an upright position, I grabbed some money out of my briefcase and threw it on the bar, then turned toward the door.
“Wait,” he said from behind me as he grabbed my free hand. I stopped short, and my hand began to tingle where his fingers touched mine.
Shit. Letting go of his hand might be impossible.
Suddenly, I wanted to cry. His touch brought to mind all that I missed daily in my life. I missed the casual physical affection of a man simply holding my hand. I missed the emotional connection between two people that can’t be replicated with love from your parents, or your friends. It was a different type of connection, because it was unpredictable and dangerous, and because of those things I’d avoided it for six long years. So I slept with men when I wanted to, and I told myself that sex would mask the pain.
Until the sex was over, when I usually felt more alone than I had before I took the guy home. I knew this, but I still went through the same ritual every few months because I couldn’t go through life with no physical affection at all. And usually I was fine with the broken carnival ride that was my personal life. But tonight I had too much to drink, and an argument with my sisters, so my loneliness was a swirling mass inside of me, taking up entirely too much space in my heart.
Having no strings attached sex with a guy was as simple as telling a guy you wanted no strings attached sex. I would know. So, I figured maybe Sexy Guy might want to sleep with me, even if I was “un-fuckable”. I figured his thought process about whether to sleep with a woman went along the line of most men—all cats look the same in the dark. He stepped up close behind me.
“Turn around,” he said softly, as he ran his fingers lightly in a circle in the palm of my hand. My hand reflexively closed, and I shivered as his fingers dragged across my palm and caused a shot of adrenaline through my system. My reaction to him was much stronger than I was prepared for.
“No,” I said, but I didn’t let go of his hand.
“Come home with me,” he asked, as he linked our fingers, and the slow touch of our skin sliding together caused an ache in my chest.
Guess this answered the question of whether he would sleep with me.
I was so lonely that it seemed like a good idea, even though I had never before picked up a guy in my own town.
“Where do you live?” I asked, without turning around.
“I’m staying at a friend’s place around the corner, but he’s out of town.”
“Let’s go,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him wave a hand in farewell to some people in the far corner of the bar, but I didn’t look to see. I figured it didn’t matter, because I most assuredly knew them, and I didn’t need any reason to stop what I planned on doing. I also didn’t look around for my sisters, or Kelsey. All I wanted to do was be alone with him.
Chapter 3
The door of the bar closed behind us, and the cool air outside doused my buzz as much as I imagine a bucket of ice water in the face would have. Our hands were still clenched tightly together as he pulled me to a stop on the sidewalk and stepped in front of me.
“Don’t ask me any questions,” I said, as I avoided his gaze.
“Not even your name?”
“Especially not that.”
I looked at the ground as he watched me. I figured that he wondered what my deal was, but I didn’t offer up any information.
“I’m sorry for—” he started.
“No.” This stopped him, and he continued to look at me while I stared at the tips of my sensible black shoes, with the heels not too high and not too short.
His face was only a few inches from mine. A breeze caused the smell of his skin to waft over me, and I closed my eyes as a buzz started inside of me even stronger than the alcohol had caused. I knew that whatever happened between me and this man was beyond my control, at least for this night. I was tired and hurt and angry, and I had no fight left in me. I didn’t want to think about why he was doing this. I didn’t want to think about the fact that he was using me, just as I was using him. His breath hit my mouth, and I finally looked up into his eyes. He looked a little confused but also turned on, and his eyes were incredibly blue even in just the faint light from the streetlamp. He really was amazingly sexy, and the heat from his body was making me hot, too. I wanted to just let go and forget that my life was not what I had dreamed of when I was a little girl, before I stumbled into Monster Land.
Maybe I could pretend for just a little while that things could be different.
“What do you want?” he said, his lips a breath away from mine.
“To surrender.”
He pulled back enough to look into my eyes, and saw that I meant it. He grabbed my briefcase with his free hand and walked down the sidewalk, tugging me along by the other hand. The place he was staying really was only around the corner, so it took about two minutes to get there.
He opened the door to the apartment and I walked in first to a small foyer cluttered with running shoes, mail, and various work out gear littering the floor. There was a small table in the foyer with a few Maxim magazines strewn on top. Definitely a bachelor pad, I thought. He followed me in, and put my briefcase on the floor, but I stayed in the foyer, unsure for the first time. I heard his keys hit the table and the door shut, but he kept the lights off so the only light came from the windows across the room that overlooked the street. He stood behind me in the dark and didn’t speak, and suddenly the moment felt very intimate.
He put his hands on my shoulders, curled his fingers into the collar of my suit jacket, and pulled it down my arms from behind slowly, exposing my plain white silk tank top. He let the backs of his fingers drag down the skin of my arms, and I leaned into him, dropping my head back to his shoulder as he tossed my jacket on the floor. He put his hands on my waist and turned me around to face him.
“I’m Jeremy,” he said, as I slid my arms around his neck and then his mouth was on mine. His tongue licked into my mouth and I no longer had any doubt about what I was doing. The creature was hidden away, and I was grateful. He swept his tongue slowly, oh so slowly against mine, over and over again. My whole body tingled like my hand had earlier. I moved my hands up his neck into the
back of his hair, and my fingers pulled gently. He moaned, wrapped one arm around my back and pulled me tight to him, so the fingers of his hand rested on the side of my breast.
I felt his erection pressing against my stomach and I ached almost painfully. His other hand pulled my silk tank out of the waistband of my skirt, while his fingers gently touched my stomach. I sucked in a breath and pulled away from his kiss, shocked by the feeling of almost being burned where his fingers had touched me. He was just as turned on as I was, his dick was hard against my stomach, and I was so wet already that I was embarrassed about what he would think when he realized it.
I hadn’t felt this type of chemistry with a man in six years, and for a second I considered leaving because I should have been scared. But the pull between us felt like a gift, almost as if I had been granted a reprieve from my pain and my sorrow, so instead of feeling scared, I felt alive.
He took his arm from around my back and used both hands to lift my tank top from the bottom, up over my head. I lifted my arms to help him, expecting him to kiss me again when it was off, but he didn’t. He just stared while still holding my tank in one hand. He was looking at my pink, lacy, see-through bra, and I have to admit it was sexy as hell. I’m sure it was unexpected for him considering what I was wearing over it.
Adrenaline rushed through my body again as I watched him watching me, his eyes roaming slowly over my generous breasts. They looked about to spill over the demi cups of the bra. My breasts were my favorite feature, since everything else about me was generous too, including my hips and butt and thighs. I figured it was only fair that my breasts were big, too. I loved them, and never more so than now when they seemed to turn him on so much. He breathed heavily, and his eyes were half-closed.
“Like what you see?”
“Yes,” he growled, as he threw my tank on the floor, sank down on his knees in front of me and reached up to unzip my skirt. He yanked it down my legs so I could step out of it. The matching pink, lacy thong with the delicate bow made him pause briefly, but he shook his head a little as he said in a deep voice, “I can’t believe you hide all this.”
He lifted my feet one at a time to remove my heels, and tossed them on the floor behind him. When he didn’t immediately stand up, I put my hands on his shoulders for balance. He looked up at me, placed his hands on the back of my thighs just above my knees, and very slowly leaned his face in toward my thong. He stunned me when he rested his face at the top of my thighs and inhaled gently. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, the pleasure of that moment causing me to feel almost weightless. I moaned as he slid his hands up the back of my thighs to cup my ass, and pulled me closer to his face so he could inhale again. The ache inside was on the verge of being painful, and I realized I might come without him even getting me naked.
My hands grabbed his t-shirt and made fists on his shoulders. He dragged one hand from my ass around to the front of my thong. His index finger slipped underneath the lace at the side of my thong, and dragged down past my heated center until the pad of his finger gently rubbed my folds.
My legs started to shake and he said, “Look at me.” I looked down and he dragged his finger back up to my hard core. He stared into my eyes as he rubbed twice before I cried out and came so hard that I got lightheaded and my knees buckled. The aftershocks were almost as intense as the initial orgasm, and when I was able to make sense of things again, he had stood up and pressed me against the wall.
“Oh my God,” I said, as I shuddered. I was still so turned on that all I could think about, all I cared about at that moment, was him. He gripped me tightly, surrounded me completely as he held me up. I grabbed onto his arms for support, and he was so strong and I felt so feminine, that in a way I had never felt more powerful in my life.
“You are so beautiful,” he said very softly, as if he was afraid to spook me. “Say your name.”
“Rose,” I said, because at that point I had no ability to deny him anything.
As he stared into my eyes he said, “Rose, you are the sexiest woman I have ever seen in my life.”
I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down to kiss me. Apparently he had sucked on his finger, because I tasted myself on his tongue as he slid it slowly against my own. These were the most sensual kisses I had ever experienced, our lips and tongues slowly rubbed against each other, and I never wanted it to end. I ran my hands down his back and felt the muscles flex underneath his t-shirt. I grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head, breaking our kiss.
“Come to the bedroom,” he said, as he practically dragged me down the hallway. I tripped over my shoes and started to laugh and he stopped, leaned down and scooped me up, and continued striding toward his room. Before I could wonder at what felt like a romantic gesture, he had stood me on the floor next to his bed. He moved away from me to kick the bedroom door closed, then he pushed me back onto the bed and covered me with his body. Our kisses became desperate with really no finesse at all, just grinding and biting while our hands started to wander.
“I want your clothes off,” I said, as I pushed his chest so he would move off of me. He rolled onto his back on the bed, while I knelt next to him still in my bra and thong. I dragged my fingers down his stomach and his muscles contracted with every touch. His chest, arms and stomach were even more defined than I had imagined in the bar. He was beautiful. He reached behind me with one hand and unhooked my bra. My breasts spilled out as I shrugged the bra off and threw it on the floor.
“Fuck,” he groaned, as he reached for my breasts with both hands and squeezed them gently. My hands stilled on his stomach, because with every squeeze of my breasts my core ached again, and it felt so fucking good that I could barely breathe. I batted his hands away and unzipped his jeans. I gripped the waistband of his jeans and pulled them down along with his briefs, being careful to go gently so as not to hurt him. I pulled the jeans down to his feet while he kicked his running shoes off, and I stripped him the rest of the way.
I was at his feet while he lay on his back with his hands at his sides. I looked up his body and a wave of wetness spread between my legs at how gorgeous he was. For me, he was perfect, just strong enough to make me feel feminine next to him. I ran my eyes down his washboard stomach, and saw that the only hair on his torso was a small happy trail leading down to a big, swollen dick, ready and waiting for me. I swung one leg over him and straddled him on his thighs. He reached up and tried to pull me down to him but I said, “No,” and pushed his hands down to the mattress on either side of him.
I leaned down and kissed the inside of his thigh and he inhaled sharply. He said, “Rose,” in a guttural voice, while I massaged him. He reached for me again.
“No, let me,” I said, as I pushed him down on his back again and moved up a little further. I took his dick in my hands and massaged the length of his shaft with both hands in a twisting motion.
“Jesus Christ” he said, as I licked the tip slowly, then very deliberately pushed my mouth down as much of his length as I could without stopping. He was very big and my mouth was spread wide, but even so when he hit the back of my throat he still wasn’t all the way in. By then he had put a hand into my hair, gently holding my head, not moving me at all as I slowly dragged my mouth up to the tip and then back down so that he hit the back of my throat, over and over again. He groaned, grabbed me and turned me over on the bed and dragged my thong down my legs before he lay full on top of me.
We both caught our breath at this first touch of skin from head to toe. I didn’t think I had ever felt anything so good, until he rubbed up and down a few inches and the friction made my nipples hard. He kissed and licked my neck and collarbone, and I pushed my hands between us to pinch my nipples. He pulled back an inch and looked down.
“What are you doing?”
“I need, I need…” I said, almost incoherent.
He took my nipples into his fingers and pinched them, and I moaned so loud it was practically a scream. He cupped m
y breasts and squeezed, and my hips came off the bed, bringing him with me. He hissed and squeezed again.
“As hard as you can,” I managed to say, and he squeezed my breasts to the point of pain. I came again, and he kissed me.
“I want you, Rose,” as he reached over to the nightstand at the side of the bed. He kept kissing me as he moved his hips slightly to the side and put a condom on. Then he was back as he spread my legs with his hands. I was so wet and ready I thought I might pass out from the orgasm I knew was coming. His tongue was in my mouth as he used one hand to guide his tip to my entrance. He put both hands under my head and kissed me as he slid all the way in without stopping, until he bottomed out. We both moaned and stopped kissing but didn’t move our mouths away from each other. Him filling me up so completely, while his breath was my breath, and his body weight was pushing me down into the bed, was indescribable. I had never been so connected to someone during sex, and I decided that I was too grateful for the pleasure to worry about whether I should worry about it.
I still tried to adjust to this amazing feeling when he said into my mouth, “Rose, please say my name,” in a hoarse whisper. His heart beat against my chest, and I couldn’t, wouldn’t think about anything else but this moment, so I said, “Jeremy,” into his mouth. His heart started to beat even faster as he kissed me again, lush, sexual kisses that I knew would leave their mark on me.
He pulled out halfway and talking wasn’t possible anymore, as he pushed back in and I lifted my legs to wrap them around his waist. He pushed me even further into the bed with his weight, as he started to thrust in and out in a steady rhythm that ensured I would come within two minutes. When I did, he sped up as my muscles squeezed him, and he reached down and placed a hand behind one of my thighs and pushed down, opening me even further for his thrusts.
I ran my hands over his back and down to his ass and finally I grabbed his hair in what was probably a painful grasp, and held on as he pumped over and over, harder and harder into me. The sound and smell of sex surrounded us, and turned me on even more. I wanted him to come inside me, I wanted him to feel the pleasure he had already given me three times. I thrust up to meet his downward motion and our bodies slammed together in what could never be considered romantic. This was instinctual, and on the verge of violent as we each reached for the pinnacle.
