by Ashley Logan
Watching me a moment, Stace slowly slides her panties to the floor and steps out of them. Stalking towards me, she straddles my lap, wrapping her legs behind the chair to keep herself in close.
Kissing my lips gently, she delivers tiny silken kisses along my jaw.
"I also like that you don't try to take control of me," she says, kissing down my neck. "And that you're strong, but gentle. You're caring, and decent, and you love your mom." Her lips linger over my pulse, and I feel it leaping for her with each beat of my heart. "You're honest, and talented, and so fucking sexy that it's hard to think straight when I'm around you."
Her teeth nip my shoulder, but she's quick to soothe the spot with her tongue and her hot breath that turns cool when it hits my skin. "You treat me better than I deserve, and you're so great with Ry. You're everything I could want in a man, Mr. Jenkins." Leaning back to look me straight in the eye, she scares away the joke I was about to make about having legs that work. Her eyes soften and she sweeps a curl back from my forehead before snuggling into my chest. "Take me to bed."
"Yes ma'am."
I wheel us down the hall, scooping up the box of condoms lying on the floor at the end of the trail of her clothes.
"You want me to give you a key, so you don't have to keep breaking in?" I ask, glancing at the front door.
"If you like," she whispers, kissing my chest as her fingers rain softly over my skin.
Chuckling as I roll into my bedroom, I look down at her. "Breaking and entering doesn't matter to you?"
"Technically, I didn't break anything, so it's just entering," she says with a sly smile as I lift her onto my bed. "You going to lose those sexy paint-covered shorts? Or do I have to be the only one in my birthday suit?"
"It is a very nice suit you have." Admiring it for a moment, I sigh happily. "I like that you're comfortable being naked with me."
"Thank my mom for wanting me to keep it under wraps. Her rules only feed my rebellion." Rolling over, she rises onto all fours and wiggles her little butt at me. "You coming?"
"Very nearly," I admit, shucking off my shorts.
Taking a condom from the box, I hold it between my teeth and toss the rest on the bedside table before joining her on the bed.
Hooking my arm around her waist, I pull her onto my lap as I lean back against the headboard. Plucking the foil wrapper from my mouth, I tuck it under the pillow for when I need it, then burrow into her hair as I enjoy having all of her skin touching all of mine. Accusing me of tickling, Stace giggles and squirms in my arms.
"Quit wiggling, or you'll impale yourself," I warn, trying to still her.
Abandoning her escape, Stacey's movement become instantly more sensual as she rubs herself along my shaft, greasing it up.
"Maybe I want to be impaled," she says with a moan as she continues her brazen lap-dance. "I've missed you." Reaching behind, her hands slide up my neck and into my hair. "Fuck me, Bradley."
Grinding into her involuntarily, I force myself to regain control. "Did you come here for a fuck, or are you going to let me love you?"
"Both?" she whimpers as my hands close around her breasts. "You can do both."
"I can do both," I agree, sliding one hand down her belly and pulling her higher on my chest as I sink lower. Gripping her hips and lifting her sideways to sit next to me, I roll between her legs in the same movement. Before she can comprehend what I'm doing, she arches back into the headboard. My tongue runs through her arousal again before teasing her clit.
Faster than I'd have thought possible, I have her tugging on my hair, begging for relief as her body tries to extract its pleasure from mine, seeking every hard surface and chasing every withdrawal.
"I need you now!" she cries, clawing at my arms to pull me up.
Easing off, I shift onto my back and reach for the condom, rolling it on over my straining erection.
On me in seconds, Stace takes my breath away as she engulfs me with her heat. Groaning with relief, at first all I can do is watch her as she finds herself a rhythm, but soon I tire of being passive.
Pulling myself backwards into a more upright position, I prop myself against the headboard and cup her breasts as they bounce.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this feels a lot like you fucking me. I distinctly recall you demanding the opposite," I say with a grin as I still her incessant hips. "While I'm enjoying myself a lot, I can't help but feel that you're rushing things."
"Rushing things feels good," she argues as she tries to move despite my grip. She is too fucking cute.
"Fine. After we rush, can we go slow?"
"Yes," she says, sighing in relief as I let her take more of me.
"Good. Hold on to your hat."
"Huh?"
Using her moment of confusion, I nudge her backwards. As she loses her balance past the tipping point, her legs come up and I grab them, keeping myself inside of her. Looking up at me in shock as she lies on the bed between my legs, she moans as I pull her hips closer, inching deeper.
"Good God, is this one of your tricks?"
Rumbling happily, I keep a comfortable grip on her hips, easing her back and forth along my shaft. It feels unbelievable, but the visuals are even better.
"Actually I've never done this before, but I'll definitely want to do it again. I'm loving how your tits jiggle each time I bury myself inside you."
Stacey mumbles something incoherently as her eyes close and her hands run through her hair that's now splayed out behind her. Her hands trail down to her breasts and a string of oaths fly from my mouth as she teases her nipples the way I'd do it if I had enough hands. It's by far, one of the hottest things I've ever seen, but now I'm pounding against her, getting carried away with my own pleasure. I cross her legs in front of me, making her clench me even tighter. I can feel as well as hear her building towards climax, but I won't last.
Cursing again, I pull out, much to Stace's verbalized annoyance. Breathing hard, I look between her wet snatch and the loved-up, yet irritable expression on her face.
Crossing her legs in front of me again, this time I flip her onto her stomach before pulling her hips back and filling her up again.
Moaning in relief, Stace moves against me to draw me deeper.
Running my hands down her back, I squeeze her ass as I bury myself to the hilt.
"You feel so fucking amazing, Stace."
Letting her set the rhythm, I offer some pressure for her clit down below as I give her other things to think about up top.
"You're so wet for me, it's unreal," I utter, circling her tight little asshole and enjoying the little shudder that runs through her. Her pace picks up and she moves into me harder until she's bucking into both my dick and my thumb and I'm about to lose my fucking mind.
Her release explodes around me, setting off my own in a surge so strong I could have shot my load across the room had she not been there to take it. Holding her fast, I endure every sacred squeeze she deals me with a sense of eternal gratefulness. I still can't believe this wonderful woman would let me share such a powerful thing with her.
As her tremors subside, I reel her in, gathering her into my chest until our breathing becomes regular again. Kissing her forehead, I pull her closer still.
"I want to offer you ice-cream, or a shower, but I never want to let you go."
"You'll have to let me go sometime," she says, resisting against me until she can lift her face to mine. "How about we shower together, and get some sleep?"
"I guess I could live with that," I say, releasing her with a sigh. She extracts herself and heads for the bathroom as I deal with the condom.
The shower is a no-nonsense cleansing, with minimal eye contact and it leaves me feeling wary. It's as if the water washed away everything we just did, leaving a kind of emptiness looming over us.
We settle into bed next to each other. Naked.
And I could be twiddling my thumbs.
"Did I do something wrong?" I ask quietly, rolling to face her a
s she stares at the ceiling.
"No," she whispers. "You're wonderful."
She doesn't look happy with that diagnosis at all.
"Is that a bad thing?"
Closing her eyes, she shakes her head. Rolling to face me, she avoids my eyes by watching her fingers trailing through my chest hair and over the hard planes of my torso. Every now and then they pause before carrying on, as if they can't help themselves despite whatever she's thinking. Her touch raises every hair I have - some other things too - but I'm hopelessly lost.
Swallowing roughly, I clear my throat. "You know, I'm kind of getting some mixed signals here, Stace. Your fingers are saying they want me, but you won't even look at me. Tell me what I should be thinking."
Looking up at my face, she lets her fingers run further south, following the line of hair down from my navel until her soft fingers coil around my growing erection.
"Do you ever get the feeling that sometimes thinking is overrated?" she asks, stroking me gently.
I can't tell from her expression if she's lost in thought about my dick, or something else entirely.
"I can't remember. It's hard to think at all with you rubbing me like that."
Smiling, she nips at my nipple and presses her tits against me. "You sleepy?"
I shake my head.
"Neither," she says, scooting up and reaching past me to the bedside. Coming back with a condom, she rips open the foil and gives me a smile. "I know what we can do."
"Stace," I start, wondering what on earth is going through that sweet head of hers that she doesn't want to think about. "Just talk to me."
"Talking is overrated too," she says with a mischievous smile as she disappears below the covers.
The second her lips wrap around my dick, I'm at a loss. "Stace!" I try to fight the pleasure, but it's useless. I want to believe that she loves me, and it's certainly easier to consider that that's true if she's sucking me with - oh my - such skill and enthusiasm.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I shake my head and gasp for breath when she stops.
She hasn't really stopped though. She's just rolling on a condom. Oh shit, what am I doing?
"Stace!"
Pulling her up so she's lying next to me, I search her face. "What's happening here?"
"We're about to get busy again," she says, making to swing her leg over me. Grabbing it, I ease it back down and roll towards her.
Forcing my dick to acquaint himself with the mattress, I push up onto my arms, balancing on one as I grab Stace and pull her into position under me. Her legs automatically slip around my waist and she stares up at me.
"Just, hang on a second," I beg, trying to make sense of the situation. "I'm trying to understand."
"You already understand," she says, her eyes darting away again. "With you, I can just be me. I'm no-one's daughter, or mother. I'm free," she says, brushing her hard nipples against my chest as she arches seductively into me. "I know I'm not really free; that morning will come; that I'll be tired tomorrow. I know that I'm terrible for sneaking out because I just want to feel good for a little while. I know I'm selfish and that I should be happy with all you've given me so far, but I want more. I don't want you to stop making me feel good."
Kissing her as she moves against me, I moan.
I want to make her feel good forever, not just until the morning. Determined to love her with all my might, I aim to make her forget that morning even exists. I'll love her while she's here in my arms. This caged bird can't really be free until she finds an open window, so I'll have to open every damn window I can.
Freeing my dick from where I've pinned him, I brace myself as he springs up and slots snuggly into the crease at her entrance. I shudder in anticipation. I'm not very good at being on top, but right now, I just want to be a man, looking down at his beautiful woman as she welcomes him in. Lowering myself to brush her lips with mine, I rest my forehead on hers. "This okay?"
"So much better than okay," she whispers, opening herself to me.
Easing myself forward slowly, I watch her face as I fill her. Hooded eyes, rosy cheeks and gorgeous lips. Lips that part as my movements make her pant little breaths, and then they press together to suppress quiet moans.
"You're so damn beautiful."
Hands following the lines of my muscles, she keeps her eyes on mine as she smiles up at me. "You too."
I kiss her again, rocking forward as I do. She moans into my mouth as her thighs grip me, and it's pure heaven. As I move against her, my eyes stay trained on hers. Sending all my love, I wait to see if there is any glimmer of hope that she'll return my feelings.
There is no glimmer. The love that comes shining up at me is so much more than some mere glimmer. It's damn near blinding and takes me by such surprise that I almost lose my strength.
Dropping to my elbows, I steal a desperate kiss as emotion threatens to overwhelm me. Her tongue meets mine, stroke for stroke, as if she too needs to impress herself upon my heart. How can she not know how deeply I already feel her there?
I'm no saint. I've probably bedded more women than a lot of guys. Some of them I even thought I loved, but as I share with Stacey something I've never felt before, I know that I'm making love for the very first time.
Taking my time, I love her gently; sweetly. It's beautiful torture and I think I'll blow it more times than I want to admit to myself, but somehow I hang on. Slowly her breaths come more frequently until they hitch and she clamps around my dick. Groaning as she pulls my love from me, I seal her mouth with mine and allow myself to get swept away in her swirling aftershocks.
When I open my eyes to look down at her, there are tears in her eyes.
"Oh, Stace. Are you okay?" I ask, rearing up to give her some space. "Did I hurt you? Squash you?"
She shakes her head, laughing silently as she brushes a tear from her cheek.
Grabbing her, I roll onto my back, so she's now on my stomach. Resting her head to my chest, she takes a deep breath, relaxing into me as she exhales. A moment later, she shifts off me, resettling at my side.
Dealing with the condom, I roll after her, scooping her into my arms and pulling her back against my chest.
"Everything okay?"
Her hair tickles my nose as she nods.
"I loved you so good you can't speak?" I joke, tucking her hair to the side so I can see more of her face.
"Something like that," she mumbles, drawing my arm around her more tightly. "I'm all warm, and full, and heavy."
Kissing her head, I hold her as if she might get taken away at any moment. "You're tired. Sleep now."
"Mm," she agrees, already drifting off. I'm not far behind her.
When I wake again, it's still dark, and I'm alone.
Sitting up, I check the time on my alarm clock. Not even five o'clock.
"Stace?"
No answer.
Switching on the lamp, I blink wildly as I reach for my chair. My hopes of finding her diminish rapidly with every push of my wheels. Making my way back to the studio, I grab up my phone and send her a message
Me: I thought you'd at least wake me to say goodbye. I feel so cheap and dirty.
When she doesn't reply, I send another.
Me: That was a joke. I love getting down and dirty with you.
After much debate with myself over whether or not I'll wake up her mom and get her in some sort of trouble, I decide it's better to know that she got home safe, and I give her a call.
It goes straight to voicemail. Her phone is probably off, I tell myself, after trying three more times. It's definitely too early to call her house.
Ignoring the little voice in the back of my mind that insists Stacey has cut and run, I head for the coffee pot, working on other arguments as to why someone who sneaks in, might also feel the need to sneak back out.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
STACE
Letting myself in silently, I tiptoe up the stairs and along to my room.
When I see my door open, my hear
t instantly starts racing. I look to Ry's room, but his door is still pulled almost closed. Mom's however, is also wide open.
Dread cloaks me in a cold shroud and I step cautiously towards my open door. No doubt she'll be sitting inside waiting to call me every word for whore that she knows. I'm sure after my night with Brad that I've got well-fucked written across my forehead in bold.
Steeling myself, I inch closer, but rush in at my first glimpse of her pale feet. She's not sitting on my bed framed by a glowing aura of fury, but sprawled across my floor, bleeding from her ear and nose.
Dropping to my knees, I shake her as I call her name and try to find her pulse.
It's faint, but it's there.
I shake her again, but she doesn't respond. Rolling her into a recovery position, I grapple with my phone and call 911, doing all I can to understand what's happened before they arrive.
It's not good news.
I relay to the operator that her pupils are blown - both of them fixed and dilated, and while she's breathing on her own, she's non-responsive to pain and her reflexes have gone. I know what it means, even whisper the words massive traumatic brain injury out loud, but I can't let myself believe it.
Not without falling apart.
My phone dies as the operator tells me not to jump to conclusions, and I throw it to the floor, pulling my mother into my arms and rocking her until I have to run down the stairs to get the door.
By the time the EMT have her downstairs, I've got Ry dressed and ready to escort her to the hospital with me.
"What about school?" he asks, still sleepy from having been pulled from his bed.
"No school. Granny's really sick. She needs to go to hospital."
"Is this about her headaches?" he asks, sending the umpteenth chill down my spine for the day.
"What headaches, baby? Did Granny tell you she had a headache?"
"She gets them all the time, but they're not so bad," he says as I crouch in front of him at the bottom of the stairs. "She has special medicine that helps."
"She does?"
Another wave of guilt hits me and I choke back the tears I can't let fall in front of my son.
