36 Inches: A MFMM Romantic Comedy

by Alexis Angel

  from those covers, but I don't play it up. It doesn't make me rich, but it's not a bad life either.

  I place ice in a shaker, and pull out a frozen martini glass.

  "Do you have any extra olives back there?" the woman asks, leaning over and smashing her breasts against the bar.

  "Sure," I say, keeping my eyes focused on the cocktail shaker and adding vodka, vermouth, and olive juice. "How many?

  "They're free, aren't they?"

  "I can give you a few."

  "Give me as many as you can," she smiles. "That's why the Mediterranean diet is so good for you … it's all of those damn olives."

  I shrug my shoulders and strain the cocktail into the glass.

  "Here you go," I say, placing the martini in front of her. "And here are some extra olives."

  She seems satisfied.

  I wipe my hands on the bar towel slung over my back pocket, and I go back to organizing liquor bottles and replacing glasses. It's a slow day, but it's still early. It'll probably pick up later.

  I'm wiping a pint glass and getting ready to set it down on the counter when a woman bursts into the bar.

  As soon as I recognize the woman, my heart seems to freeze.

  It's not any woman. It's Cara.

  If there's ever been a more perfect woman, I dare you to find one because I've never seen one.

  I've had a thing for Cara since the moment I first laid eyes on her. But she's always had a boyfriend, and I'm not the home wrecking type.

  "Oh thank God," she says, "You're here."

  She looks frantic. She throws her purse on a stool, and I notice a tremble in her hand.

  "Is everything okay? Hard day at the office?"

  "You have no idea. I mean, look at me!" she says. "I'm still shaking like a leaf."

  "Sit down," I say, motioning to the empty barstool. "And talk to me. Let me grab you a drink. It's on me."

  "Thanks, I could use one," she says. "No, scratch that. Make it a double."

  "That bad, huh?"

  "It's Sienna and … Trevor." Her voice seems to hitch at the mention of her boyfriend. "They've been fucking behind my back."

  As she says this, a tear zigzags down her cheek.

  I slam an empty glass down on the bar.

  "What?" I say, feeling a new anger burn at the edges of my mind. "What an asshole. That guy doesn't deserve a woman like you. I'm ready to go put my fist through his mouth. Is he at Sienna's office? I swear, I'm gonna go find that guy right now."

  I start pulling my car keys from my pocket, but Cara stops me.

  No, Derek, please," she says. "Could you please just stay with me? I need you."

  Her eyes are so soft. So tender. And so … broken.

  It hurts me to see her like this. It feels like someone's pushing a white-hot poker into my chest.

  How could Trevor fuck her over this bad?

  "Look," I say, slowly placing my hand on top of hers. "I don't want to take advantage of your fragile emotional state."

  Cara laughs and wipes a tear from her eye. "I'm anything but fragile."

  "But," I continue, "by Trevor cheating on you, and getting you out of a bad relationship, he did you a favor. That's just what you needed, you know?"

  She thinks about this. "You're right," she says. "Now I get to do what I've always wanted to do."

  She says this with a smile, as if she's holding something back.

  But I don't want to prod her further, and I return the smile, sliding a cocktail across the bar.

  "Here, try this."

  "It's practically neon green," she laughs. "It looks like nuclear waste. What is this stuff?"

  "It's a Mountain Dew Me."

  She laughs and then pauses for a moment, looking me up and down, and then grins. "Do you, huh?"

  "Sure," I say, leaning closer to her over the bar. I didn't expect her to play along so quickly, but now that she is, I'm all in. "You know … I can make you forget Trevor faster than a 16-digit password."

  Her gold earrings catch a sliver of sun and cast a heart-shaped pattern of light on her neck. I want nothing more than to press my lips over that spot.

  "What did you mean earlier when you said that I now get to do what I want to do?" I ask.

  She doesn't answer me, and instead takes a sip of the drink that I made her. As soon as she swallows, she looks up at me, and motions for me to come closer with her finger. I lean in, and as soon as I do, she presses her lips to mine.

  I feel my entire body flush with desire. Even my cock twitches.

  Then she pulls back and smiles. "That's what I meant."

  Chapter 3

  Cara

  The Mountain Dew Me is on the counter forgotten. Derek grabs my hand and pulls me toward the back of the bar. I’ll be honest—after that delicious kiss, I don’t really try to stop him. By the time he opens the door to the office in the back, away from the main room of the bar, there’s only one thing dominating my mind: sex. There’s something about him that tells me I’m in for quite a ride …

  I step inside the office, and the moment I hear the door closing behind us I’m on him. I turn on my heels and press my mouth against his. Our lips touch and my soul starts to boil. It’s all it takes really—one taste of the Devil’s lips and I know I’m damned. Whatever he wants to do to me, I’m his.

  I can almost thank Trevor and Sienna for what they did to me. Being here with Derek is worth any pain or anger. I’ve wanted to do this for so long, and now that I’m finally free to do it…

  I part my lips slightly, my tongue reaching for his and dancing in slow soft circles around it. His hands are on my waist, his long fingers firmly planted on my hips. We kiss in abandonment, my fingers running through his hair and disheveling it as my heart beats faster and faster. I let my hands fall down to the side of his face and I trace the hard lines of his jaw, the warmness on his skin calling to me.

  “I’m going to fuck you,” he suddenly says, taking one hand to my neck and yanking on my hair, forcing my head back. I open my eyes, locking them on his, and I stop breathing for a whole second as he continues. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t even know your name when we’re done.”

  Each word that leaves his lips is like opium, traveling from my ears to my brain and drowning it in numbness. I try to think of an appropriate response, but all I can do is mouth an anxious “yes.” He takes one step forward, pushing me back and pinning me against the wall. My heart is drumming so hard I half-expect it to claw its way out of my chest anytime now.

  “I own you. Right now, you’re mine,” he says, leaning in and whispering in my ear, his full lips brushing against my skin. My heart rises and falls at a hurried pace, my lungs working overtime as his eyes seem to devour me. Impatient with my silence, he yanks harder on my hair, his lips turning into a hard line. “Say it.”

  I’ve never expected this from him. Despite that glint in his eyes, that devilish smile of desire on his lips, Derek was always a perfect gentleman toward me. I guess that, just like me, he had been dreaming of this for a long time. With his hard eyes locked on mine, I find my brain shutting down, my unconscious hidden thoughts crawling out of their cages.

  “I’m yours,” I find myself saying, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.

  “You are,” he grins, the way his lips curl upward makes him look even more beautiful. “And you’ll do everything I tell you to.”

  “I will do everything you tell me to,” I repeat, my mouth turning dry. Of course, as my mouth goes dry, my pussy becomes wetter than it has ever been—maybe there’s some correlation there.

  Still with one hand on my hair, he takes the other one to the hemline of my dress, the tip of his fingers brushing against the naked skin above my right knee. I feel my skin prickling as his fingers hike up my leg, gently lifting the dress in the process. The closer he gets to my pussy, the wetter I become, a wildfire of desire spreading inside of me. I almost reach for his wrist and force his hand against my pussy, but I’m
so entranced by his touch I simply stand still, the perfect victim to his teasing.

  Unblinking, I stare into his eyes as his fingers close in on my pussy, my insides burning with anticipation. But instead of simply going for it, he simply traces the contour of my thong with his index finger, going back and forth over pussy lips without actually touching my pussy. Guided by unconscious desire, I find myself bucking my hips at him, aching to feel his hand on me. The moment I do it, he takes his hand out from under my dress and yanks on my hair again.

  “Stand still,” he tells me, deviousness flickering in his eyes. I nod, pursing my lips and trying to ignore my own instincts. Stand still, I repeat to myself, the words echoing inside my head. In an instant, his hand is under my dress again, his index finger gently running along the place where fabric and skin meet. He goes like that for what seems like an eternity, although it couldn’t have been more than a minute. It’s easy to lose track of time when you’re so wet your juices have soaked your thong completely. Then he finally turns his wrist and flattens the palm of his hand over the front of my thong. I can’t help but gasp as I succumb to the pressure of his fingers on my pussy. I throw my head back and close my eyes, a sweet numbness embracing every single one of my nerve endings.

  Derek starts rubbing my pussy softly, his fingers pressed tight over my wetness. A purred moan leaves my lips as he does it, the whole world fading away around me. With a flick of his fingers he pulls my thong to the side and brushes one fingertip over my pussy, his touch making my brain almost explode.

  “You’re so wet,” he says, his finger going back and forth over my drenched lips. “I love it.”

  “Please,” I mutter, not even understanding what I’m asking for. I want him to slide his finger deep inside of me, I want to feel his cock pushing past my inner lips and lodging itself inside my pussy. I want it all, and I want it right now.

  Before I can even react, he parts my inner lips and slides his finger in, moving it inside me like a hook and pressing his fingertip in that sweet hidden spot. I moan again, this time louder, and he presses harder against my G-spot. I swear to God, I’m so delirious with desire I have no idea how I’m managing to stand still.

  He starts to move his finger in and out of my pussy, each time his hand moves the rhythm growing. Soon enough his finger is moving so fast I’m no longer moaning, I’m just trying to keep breathing through the avalanche of sensations that rages inside of me. Letting go of my hair, he takes his other hand to between my thighs and presses his thumb over my clit, applying just enough pressure to force a moan out of my lips once more.

  Working on my clit with his thumb, his index finger flying in and out of my pussy, he guides me to the edge and, with a simple word, throws me off of it.

  “Come,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear. “Come for me.”

  Just like that, I go off. I close my eyes again, breathing hard through my gritted teeth as all muscles in my body become tight and hard, uncontrollable tension pooling in every single fiber of my being. Like a bomb, pleasure explodes inside of me, my muscles letting go of all that tension as a forceful scream leaves my throat. My voice quivers as he stops moving his finger and just presses it hard against my G-spot, rubbing it there with the mastery of a man who knows women almost too well.

  I press my back against the wall, trembling as he slides his finger out of my pussy and looks me in the eyes.

  “This was just a taste,” he grins, that sweet mischievousness in his lips driving me completely mad. “Plenty more to come… If you behave, that is.” As he speaks, he brings his fingers up to my face, and lays the one he had inside of me against my lips. The scent of my own pussy climbs up my nostrils, and I find myself opening my mouth gently, allowing him to slide his finger in. He slides it all the way in, my tongue running along its length and licking it dry of my own juices. Tasting myself I grow even wetter, wanting much more than to just be fingered. I mean, if he can make me feel like this using only one finger and one word, what else can he do? Oh, judging by the look in his eyes, I’m going to find out pretty soon.

  My instincts taking the wheel, I reach for his crotch, anxious to feel him and find out what he hides under his expensive clothing. But, the moment my hand is just an inch away from him, he moves quickly and grabs my wrist.

  “Not yet,” he tells me firmly, letting go of my wrist and taking a step backward. “You’ll have to earn that.”

  I lick my lips, anxious to do whatever’s necessary to earn it. I still can’t believe I’m letting him act like this, dominating me as if I were nothing more than a naive innocent girl … But he’s so damn intoxicating. And I’m not just talking about his good looks; no, it goes deeper than that. One hard look into his eyes is enough to realize that Derek Kane is more than just a man; he’s almost from a completely different breed. Standing here, in the presence of a man who seems so perfect it’s almost unbelievable, what else can I do than obey every single one of his words? Sure, I won’t let him push me around forever … but my body demands me to do it right now. I can’t help but submit.

  God, I should’ve done this a long time ago!

  Derek takes another step back and unbuttons his shirt, opening the top button of his shirt as his eyes wander all over my body. I feel him devouring every single inch of naked skin in me, and I know he’s aching for more.

  “Turn around,” he tells me, his voice leaving no room for hesitation. The moment his words caress my eardrums, I’m turning on my heels, my back to him as my heart thumps louder against my chest. “Your dress, take it off. Slowly.”

  I take one deep breath, moving my hands to my shoulders and pushing the straps of my dress down my arms. I feel the fabric drooping over my breasts, and I pull on it until my dress is hanging around my waist. Hooking my fingers on it, I sway my hips from side to side, slowly letting the fabric fall down my legs into a heap at my feet.

  His shoes click across the floor of the office as he takes one step toward me; I fight against all of my urges and remain in place, every fiber in my body screaming for me to turn around and face him. I feel his fingertips over the dimples in my lower back, and then he runs them all the way up to my shoulder blades; he moves his fingers across the edge of my bra, stopping only to undo the clasp there. He does it with one single movement, the cups drooping over my breasts.

  I half-expect him to pull the straps down my shoulders, but instead he takes one step back. “Take it off,” he commands me, my arms moving by themselves in response. I push the straps down my arms, and then I let the bra fall down to the floor, right on top of my dress. My nipples are hard, almost desperate to feel his fingers, mouth, and skin on them.

  For a long second, he says nothing. I close my eyes as I feel him appreciating my body, the air around both of us becoming heavier and charged with electricity. I can almost feel the desperate need he has to see me taking my thong off, and still he waits, letting the fire of anticipation rage in both of our bodies.

  “You look so fucking perfect,” he says, moving fast toward me and pressing his body against mine. My hands go to the wall and I unconsciously jut my ass back at him, my rear pressed tight against his crotch. I sigh deeply as I feel his thick shape straining against his pants, pulsing with desire and lust. He laces my waist, pressing his forearm over my stomach as he pulls me into him, bucking his hips at me at the same time. He’s thick and long, probably the biggest I've ever felt.

  I sway my hips from side to side, the bulging in his pants pushing against my ass cheeks as I move. Derek runs his free hand up and down my side, his long fingers only stopping when they meet the small string of fabric that delineates my thigh—he hooks them there, on my thong, and pulls viciously. Just one pull and he tears my thong apart, the fabric sliding off my body in such a hurried way that I can’t help but gasp.

  His lips are on my neck as I grind my ass against his cock, everything in me burning with a frantic desire to get him out of his clothes. I reach behind my back, wanting to place m
y hand over his crotch, but once again he grabs my wrist, pinning my whole arm behind my back.

  “You want it that much?” he asks me while I try and fight back against the hold he has on me. It’s impossible: he’s simply too strong.

  “I do,” I respond, leaning forward and pressing my forehead against the wall, as my breathing grows heavier. The moment the words leave my lips, he lets go of me. He takes two steps back, the absence of his body on mine almost too painful to endure. Reacting on instinct, I turn on my heels, my feet making me follow after him.

  “Stop,” he says firmly, and I stop dead in my tracks. We’re just a few inches away, and that is almost enough to drive me insane—to know that I could just reach for his shirt and start peeling it off of him … “On your knees,” he continues, my body once again responding without his commands having to be filtered by my brain. I don’t know what it is about him, but the moment he speaks, I do it. As soon as my knees touch the floor, my heart is pounding hard again, my eyes glued to the thick shape straining against his pants. “How bad do you want it?”

  “I want it bad,” I say, my voice quivering as he starts to unbuckle his belt. I can’t even blink, my eyes glued to what’s happening in front of me. With slow teasing movements he takes the belt out from his pants and throws it on the floor; his fingers then go back to his crotch, unbuttoning it with deliberate and maddening patience. Each buttons he undoes, my heart kicks and punches harder against my ribcage … and with each button he pops out, his cock strains harder against his boxer briefs.

  “Then have it,” Derek says, reaching for my hair and yanking my head back. He leans down toward me and presses his mouth against mine, our kiss one of wildness and frenzied lust. When he stands up again, my hands are moving toward his crotch; I hook my fingers on the side of his pants and slowly pull them down to his knees. My fingers go up his legs and over his underwear, but never touching his cock. I want to touch it more than anything, but I want to make him feel the poison of anticipation in his veins.