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F*cking Awkward

Page 11

by Anthology


  Evan could feel the vein at the side of his temple throbbing as he clenched his hands behind him.

  Jesus, please take the bowl away. Take it away, you crazy fucking madwoman.

  Mistress J was in some sort of standoff with Reagan, and while Evan appreciated Reagan’s desire to have it out with the woman, maybe she could do it when his balls were on ice…not fire.

  His eyes were starting to roll to the back of his head as mistress yanked the bowl away. Oh thank fuck. Then she got to her feet and glared down at Reagan.

  “If you weren’t up for my services, you shouldn’t have called me,” the domibitch said.

  “Oh, I was up, but then you broiled my balls for dinner,” Evan said.

  “I’ll have you know the ballcuzzi is my most requested service.”

  “The ballcuzzi? Are you shitting me right now?” His voice sounded unnaturally high-pitched to his ears, and he knew if he didn’t get any goddamn ice in the next minute, he’d probably pass out from second fucking degree burns and trauma. “Go right now and put some ice in this damn bowl, and then when you’ve done that, untie us.” So I can strangle you.

  The expression on his face must’ve been wild, though, because mistress’s brow practically rose to her hairline, and she backed away.

  “My balls are on fire, you psycho wench,” he yelled, and that got her moving. But not moving in the way he wanted. She ran around the bedroom, throwing her items back in the duffel bag, but leaving the empty lube bottle on the floor. The mistress went to grab for the dildo in Reagan’s hair, but when Reagan growled at her like a feral dog, she quickly backed away. When she’d gathered up everything—including the damn bowl not filled with ice, she threw the bag over her shoulder, and, with a middle-finger salute, she was out the door.

  “Hey!” Evan called out as she scurried away from them and toward the front of the apartment.

  “She’s not… She can’t be leaving,” Reagan said, and then called out, “You get back here right now and untie us, you purple-haired cuntbag, or we’ll—”

  The front door slammed shut, then with a decisive fuck you, and they both sat there, stock-still, waiting for Mistress J to realize what she’d forgotten. But when they were no longer able hear the women’s footsteps and silence descended, they looked at each other with mouths agape.

  “What the fuck,” they both said at the same time.

  “Where did you find her?” Reagan asked. “Craigslist? Midtown East?”

  “A buddy of mine recommended her.”

  “I’m guessing he’s a fan of the ballcuzzi.”

  Evan shuddered.

  Reagan held her arms out toward him. “Okay. Untie me, please, so I can freeze your sac.”

  “Uhhh. About that…”

  “What about it?”

  “I may have…overexaggerated my abilities.”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t think we’d ever actually have to escape from a demented dominatrix, Reagan.”

  “Oh my God, you idiot.” Reagan sighed and looked around the apartment. “Well, at least she didn’t steal anything—”

  “Besides the skin of my balls,” Evan said, and then nodded at Reagan’s hair. “And she actually left you a gift. How nice.”

  “Oh shut up.” Reagan pouted. “You won’t like it much when I have to chop my hair off to get this damn thing out.”

  “You could be bald, and I’d still find you sexy as hell.” When he leaned over to give her a kiss, the sting of his scalded testicles had him wincing and sitting back.

  As they sat against the wall surveying the damage—an entire bottle of lube poured over Reagan and the floor, water from the bowl drenching the end of his bed from mistress’s haste to leave, the two of them naked and tied up like cattle, a fucking dildo in Reagan’s hair—he began to laugh. Hysterically. His head fell against the wall as Reagan joined in, both of them laughing until they couldn’t breathe.

  “Happy anniversary,” Evan said before breaking into another fit of laughter.

  Reagan chuckled and then shook her head. “The next time we celebrate, a good, old-fashioned fuck in the swing would suffice.” “Duly noted.”

  “By the way,” Reagan said, nodding at the wall of windows that had been left open. “Think anyone’s called the police yet?”

  The End

  * * *

  For more (hotter) sexy time with Evan and Reagan, make sure to pick up SEX ADDICT by Brooke Blaine and Ella Frank. Available Now!

  * * *

  You could say Brooke Blaine was a book-a-holic from the time she knew how to read; she used to tell her mother that curling up with one at 4 a.m. before elementary school was her 'quiet time.' Not much has changed except for the espresso I.V. pump she now carries around and the size of her onesie pajamas.

  Brooke enjoys writing sassy contemporary romance, whether in the form of comedy, suspense, or erotica. The latter has scarred her conservative Southern family for life, bless their hearts.

  If you'd like to get in touch with her, she's easy to find - just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone that's dominated her cell phone for ten years.

  www.BrookeBlaine.com

  * * *

  Ella Frank is the author of the #1 Bestselling Temptation series, including Try, Take, and Trust. Her Exquisite series has been praised as “scorching hot!” and “enticingly sexy!”

  A life-long fan of the romance genre, Ella writes contemporary and erotic fiction and lives with her husband in Portland, OR. You can reach her on the web at www.ellafrank.com and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ella.frank.author

  Some of her favorite authors include Tiffany Reisz, Kresley Cole, Riley Hart, J.R. Ward, Erika Wilde, Gena Showalter, and Carly Philips.

  www.EllaFrank.com

  Too Many of Us

  Brooke Page

  “How far from the bridge is the cabin again?” Becca asked from the back seat.

  “About two hours,” Tyler said. He was hunched over the steering wheel, squinting from the bright snow that had been falling in big chunks our entire ride from Grand Rapids.

  “I don’t remember it taking this long,” I muttered. I hadn’t been to our family cabin in years, around fifteen to be specific. When I told Jamie, my beautiful wife sitting behind me in the SUV, that we had a cabin buried deep in the woods in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan she became curious, wanting to make a trip to see a part of my childhood.

  The idea was fantastic, something I was anxious to show her.

  But I wanted to show her myself. Not with my brother and sister-in-law tagging along.

  “The snow isn’t helping with our time,” Tyler sighed, making a right out of Mackinaw City toward the bridge. The sun had set, and the snow delayed our time by at least two hours.

  “The bridge will be open, right?” Jamie asked warily. The heavy downfall of the snow was something she still needed to get used to. She grew up in Florida, and had only spent a handful of time in the colder climate.

  “Takes a lot to close the bridge down,” I assured her, reaching behind my seat to tap her knee. She leaned into my touch, and the smallest interaction made my cock twitch.

  My irritability with our unexpected company increased another twenty percent.

  Jamie and I hadn’t been intimate in far too long, and I was looking forward to escaping into the woods with her for a long weekend. A summer month verses early spring would have been more ideal given the ever changing Michigan weather, but I took what I could get. Jamie wasn’t as willing to take off just the two of us often, actually never.

  The soft coo’s coming from the back seat were the reason for that. Don’t get me wrong, our six month old son, Landon, was the apple of my eye, and I didn’t like leaving him either, but the need to be alone with my wife was growing.

  It was strong and taking over my every thought.

  I missed my hands exploring every inch of her, my mouth caressing her skin, forming goose bumps, making her beg for me to fill her until her who
le body would quake.

  My knee bounced to help ease the discomfort and dull the ache that was building in my pants.

  “The weather isn’t perfect, but that won’t stop this get away from being fun! When’s the last time the four of us got to hang out?” Becca said.

  “Seems like it’s always the four of us,” I muttered under my breath. Tyler’s lip twitched, a sign he’d heard my remark.

  “Five of us,” Jamie corrected Becca. Landon babbled more, causing both women in the back to awe.

  He wasn’t even a year old and knew how to get the ladies to go crazy over him.

  “That son of yours is giving my wife baby fever,” Tyler mumbled.

  “I heard that,” Becca snapped.

  Jamie laughed. “Tyler, I’ll let Becca babysit Landon more often to help ease the itch.”

  “Becca watches our nieces and nephews all the time,” Tyler stated.

  “You enjoy watching them too!” Becca argued.

  Letting my brother and sister in law bicker, I tilted my head toward the window. “What are you going to do about my itch?” I whispered to Jamie.

  She leaned forward, resting her head on the shoulder of my seat. “You want another baby?”

  My eyes widened.

  “I didn’t think so.” Jamie giggled in my ear, and it made me grin. I loved hearing her happy like this.

  “I wanted some alone time,” I said under my breath, reaching behind my seat to squeeze her calf.

  Her lips gently pressed against my ear, sending tingles low into my groin. “You’ll get it. We have two babysitters. Why do you think I asked Becca and Tyler to come?”

  “The cabin is tiny,” I hissed, damning the seat between us.

  “There are two rooms, right? And Landon is a great sleeper. We can set his pack-n- play up in the living room,” she promised. The heat of her tongue teased the inside of my ear.

  Tyler and Becca were still heated in conversation. Keeping my voice low, I flirted, “Why don’t you start now?”

  I sensed her grin, then felt her hand creep between my seat and the door, rubbing past my hip and to my thigh. “Maybe if everyone falls asleep.”

  “Would you two stop arguing?” I groaned, whipping my head in Tyler’s direction. Both their mouths clamped shut.

  Jamie retreated after my outburst, but I caught her hand, lacing our fingers together.

  “We weren’t arguing,” Becca mumbled, crossing her arms and leaning her head against the window.

  * * *

  The car was quiet within a half hour. Landon hummed himself to sleep like usual, and Becca’s eyes had been closed for at least ten minutes. I would know, since I’d been constantly checking, anxious to get my wife to become adventurous inside this car. Tyler would mutter about the snow every few minutes, but for the most part was focused on driving in the now blizzard. He turned the weather on the radio, and every time the words unexpected winter weather warning came on he’d grumble.

  Just as I was about to reach back and tap Jamie’s knee, her sly hand found my side, reaching between the seatbelt and my jeans. I resituated, angling myself so she could have better access. Draping my coat over my lap, I guided her hand to my eager cock pressing against the coarse fabric of my jeans. Her delicate fingers stroked gently along the seam of my zipper. I was prepared to undo my pants, but the seatbelt was in the way.

  Glancing over at Tyler, he was still engrossed on the road, the light from the council of the car glowing on his face. Gulping, I reached to unclasp the belt buckle, slowly pushing the button down. The clicking sound seemed to blast through the car.

  Tyler only kept his eyes on the road. My heart raced as Jamie’s hand became more aggressive. I hissed between my teeth, cautiously lifting my hips so she could unbutton my jeans easily.

  We were really doing this.

  Jamie’s hand brushed the mesh of my boxer briefs, causing me to take a ragged breath.

  “So what do you think of the Cub’s new first baseman?” Tyler’s question startled me, making my back stiffen. Jamie didn’t falter, her hand sliding under the elastic of my boxers.

  I sucked in air. “The what?”

  “Didn’t you watch ESPN this morning? The Cubs traded their first baseman for a rookie.”

  “Oh,” I choked, trying not to squirm as Jamie’s hand gripped my shaft. The warm, tense hold she had made my balls tighten.

  “I’ve never heard of him. Guess he’s got a great stroke with the bat.”

  Jamie snickered behind me, making a point to palm my cock from root to tip. “I think I’ve got a pretty good stroke,” she whispered against my ear, picking up her pace.

  “I bet he hits the ball,” Jamie purred, her nail traced the seam of my testicles, “really far and really,” then her hand snugly cupped my scrotum, “hard.”

  She literally had me by the balls, and I wanted nothing more than to let her rub me raw-- but Jesus, my brother was trying to have a conversation in the seat next to me.

  “I looked up his stats, he’s good at finding holes,” Tyler continued.

  “I hope you’ll be good at finding holes tonight,” Jamie murmured against my ear.

  And I thought my cock couldn’t get any stiffer.

  Tyler babbled on obliviously. “He mainly hits doubles. Nothing wrong with that, but I wouldn’t be bragging about getting to second base.”

  “Nothing wrong with second base,” Jamie said louder, making herself present in the conversation. “I think Mitch would be happy with a double.”

  If it were light outside, the whole world would mistake my face for a tomato.

  “Hah! When’s the last time you hit a double in softball league?” Tyler playfully smacked my knee and laughed. The action made me jump out of my seat. Jamie’s hand pulled away from my reaction, and I pouted internally.

  “Sorry buddy, didn’t mean to startle you,” Tyler chuckled, focusing back on the road.

  I took a deep breath, blowing out air I’d been holding onto. For the first time I was thankful for the arctic weather, otherwise I wouldn’t have a coat to hide my wife’s naughty hand. What if Tyler would have hit my junk? Thank God Becca was still sleeping.

  This was so fucking awkward.

  Once I was back in my seat, Jamie’s hand slithered back under my jeans. I wanted her to keep going, I really did, but I didn’t want to get off with my brother yapping next to me. My hand gently grasped her wrist, but my movement must have been too subtle.

  “You want to split season tickets this year?” Tyler carried on, not having a clue that I was about to blow my shit all over my jacket.

  Jamie’s hand slid up and down my shaft faster. My hand holding her wrist must have been mistaken from stop to go--at full fucking speed.

  “Sure,” I grunted, hoping my answer would be enough. Processing a complete thought that didn’t involve spurting seaman in my coat would be impossible.

  My response satisfied him, because he didn’t ask for further explanation. My hand loosened around her wrist. Maybe I could get off with my brother and sister-in-law in the car. They had no clue what was happening, and as long as neither of them were talking, I could blissfully lose myself for the slightest moment.

  My mind wandered, getting lost in my thoughts as Jamie’s hand found the perfect stroke she knew I liked. She was standing before me in my mind, wearing a busty black laced bra, her tits damn near popping out. I could even see areola. Licking my lips, I imagined her legs spreading as she straddled me, a miniscule black skirt hiking to her hips, revealing nothing but her smooth, pink pussy, begging to be played with.

  My nostrils flared from my daydream. Turning my head toward the window, my jaw slacked open, letting out a mangled breath causing the window to fog. I was close now, and Jamie could tell. Her lips found my ear, the moistness of her tongue pressing against the shell.

  “Are you going to come on my hand?” she whispered, her breath heavy with need.

  Fuck me. I was. I really was…

  U
ntil a tiny snort, followed by a whimper turned cry, caused Jamie’s hand to curl back behind her seat.

  My eyes sprung open. DAMN IT! “He’s fine,” I croaked, clearing my dry throat. “He’ll go back to sleep.”

  Jamie quietly hushed him, and I knew her hand would no longer be on my throbbing cock and extremely blue balls.

  “I think you might be right Lando,” Tyler sighed. “Enough is enough in this car. The weather is terrible. I think it’s time we stop and crash for the night.”

  “What?” I muttered. “Tyler, we aren’t that far away.”

  “We’ve gone five miles in forty-five minutes. I’m tired, and I can’t deal with a cranky baby in a confined area. At least not tonight.” Tyler was reaching his grumpy state. Stopping wouldn’t be so bad, if we could find a place. There wasn’t a lot of activity in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

  “Look,” Tyler said, pointing with one finger to a blinking sign. “We are in luck.”

  I smirked. I was the one who was about to be in luck.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I bellowed. “They really only have one room available?”

  Tyler spun the single key in his hand. “There’s two beds. I’m not driving in that blizzard any longer, and I’m not letting anyone else drive my car.”

  “Why can’t we look for another hotel?”

  Tyler rolled his eyes, his jaw clenching with annoyance. “You heard the guy at the front desk. There isn’t another place to stay for another thirty miles, and it most likely is booked for the ice fishing tournament.”

  I huffed, opening the lobby door, getting blasted by the frigid air in the process. “This fucking sucks.”

  “I don’t want to share a room with you either,” Tyler grumbled, “but we don’t have many options. Man up and deal with it.”

  Deal with it. Right. Tell that to the big load of come wanting to explode out of my agitated cock.

 

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