What She Needed

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What She Needed Page 11

by Teresa Genevieve


  "Because I'm fascinated by this," he confessed. "It must be so easy to be a woman. All you have to do is not put out, and you get all this jewelry."

  She folded her arms across her chest. "All you have to do is not break the law, and you are getting free food and sex delivered to your door."

  He held up a finger. "True. I do have it pretty good these days."

  "I should think so."

  Sliding the jewelry box toward himself, he peeked inside. "What else do you have in there?"

  "Poke around," she told him.

  He picked up the box, looking at the bracelets, necklaces and earrings that she had accumulated over the several months she's spent with Mike. "There has to be twenty thousand dollars worth of stuff in there," he remarked.

  "This is only part of it," she told him. "Remember, I sold the rest to go on vacation with Jim."

  "That's insane."

  "Yup," she said, picking up all the pieces and putting them back. "It was a good vacation."

  "Unbelievable."

  She put the box back in the bag along with the clean dishes she'd brought over. "You know what else is unbelievable?"

  "What?"

  "The fact that my husband came over here earlier and replaced a window."

  Dylan sat back in his chair, wordlessly eyeing her with a cocky grin.

  "That was terrifying," she went on. "I was so afraid one of us was going to slip up."

  "I felt kind of bad, actually," he confessed. "Here I am sleeping with his wife, and the guy comes over to replace a window for me."

  "Don't feel bad," she muttered, putting her chin in her hand. "If he could give me what I needed, I wouldn't be cheating on him."

  "Did he at least sleep with you while he was here?"

  "I don't want to talk about that," she replied.

  Dylan appeared to feel a little threatened. He leaned in, giving her his sexiest look, making her pulse instantly speed up. Putting his hand on her neck, he nuzzled his face in her ear, whispering, "Can he do it like I do?"

  She giggled and pulled away. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

  His stare remained unwavering. "I don't think he can."

  He couldn't. The truth was that Jim couldn't come close to matching what Dylan did to her. Jim couldn't even pry himself away from his computer long enough to notice she was a woman.

  "You're not arguing." Dylan's voice was deep and throaty.

  Feeling her resolve disappear, she looked up into is brown eyes, which were eager with desire.

  "Maybe I should pull out all the stops this time," he went on, allowing his fingers to slide down her neck and over her breast.

  She closed her eyes. If he had been holding back before, she couldn't even imagine what he was capable of.

  "It has occurred to me that I owe you one." His hand moved back up her body, lightly brushing his fingers against her nipple. "You were awfully generous to me yesterday."

  All she could do was suck in and release a breath.

  She felt his lips on her neck, sending a tingle of electricity throughout her whole body.

  She was putty in his hands.

  He began to lift her shirt right there in the kitchen. She looked around, seeing if any windows had a direct shot to the outside, but all of the curtains were closed. Relaxing, she raised her arms over her head, allowing him to expose her bra. As her shirt hit the floor, he raised his eyebrows with a smirk, silently letting her know that she was about to be on the receiving end of something amazing.

  He kissed the exposed parts of her breasts, leaving her bra on. Taking her hands, he stood her up, walking behind her, kissing the base of her neck and the area between her shoulder blades. His fingertips gently traced lines up and down her arms, causing chill bumps to erupt all over her body.

  She felt her bra unhook and slide slowly down her arms. He continued to kiss her back as his hands wrapped around her. His fingers barely touched the skin of her breasts, both teasing and delighting her at the same time. She released a shaky sound that she couldn't control, rolling her head back with ecstasy.

  He stood up tall behind her, leaning in so his mouth was next to her ear. "Are you enjoying this?" he whispered, allowing her to feel his breath as he spoke.

  She closed her eyes as she sucked in a deep inhale. "Mm-hmm."

  "I thought so," he added, kissing his way down her neck and onto her shoulder. His voice stayed soft and confident. "Spin around for me."

  Something about his tone made her crazy. Doing as she was told, she turned around, once again exposing herself to him. He stood back, eyeing her up and down, a slight smile gracing his lips. He folded his arms and peered at her, giving a little nod toward her breasts. "Touch them."

  She widened her eyes, alarmed by how turned on she was with his words. She saw where this was going, and she liked it. Never breaking eye contact with him, she raised her hands and began to lovingly caress her breasts, paying special attention to her nipples.

  "Lick your fingers," he commanded quietly, leaning back against the counter.

  She seductively put her finger in her mouth, wetting it with her tongue before allowing it to slide down her lip. She did the same with another finger before tracing small, wet circles around her both of her nipples.

  "That's right," he whispered, unable to take his eyes off of her.

  They stood for a moment, her making herself crazy with her fingers, him making himself crazy by watching.

  After enjoying the show, he eventually instructed, "Turn around."

  She wasn't sure what he had in mind, but she did it.

  "Now slide off your pants—slowly," he told her. "Keep your panties on. Just the pants."

  She closed her eyes, steeling herself, eventually unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans. Inch by inch, she pulled them down, exposing a thong she had pulled out of the depths of her drawer for this occasion.

  He whispered a long and drawn out, "Yeah."

  Bending at the waist, she gently guided her pants to the floor. She stood up and stepped out of them.

  "Grab the counter," Dylan instructed.

  She took two steps forward, leaning over, placing her hands on the edge of the linoleum.

  "Pull that thong aside so I can see you."

  Biting her lip, she used one finger to slide her panties off to the side, exposing every inch of herself. After only a short time, she put it back.

  "I didn't say I was done," he told her softly.

  "You were done."

  "Oh," he said with surprise. "I see how it is."

  She giggled seductively.

  "Pleasure yourself," he directed. "Under your thong."

  She obediently maneuvered her fingers under the front of her panties, wrapping them around her body so he could see them from behind her. She began to work in small circles, moaning softly, unable to contain her excitement.

  "Are you touching yourself?" she asked. She couldn't see him from where she stood.

  "Oh, yeah."

  The thought exhilarated her.

  "Why don't you go on up inside?" he asked seductively.

  "Gladly." She marveled at how wet she was as she slid her finger up inside of her, rubbing the most intimate places on her body. She gripped the counter firmly with her other hand and crept up onto her toes, bending further over to give Dylan a better view.

  She could feel herself dripping down her leg.

  "Finish yourself."

  Her breath became heavy as she grew increasingly more excited. Her body writhed as she alternated between throwing her head back and hanging it, feeling too good for her to remain still. Her rhythmic moans and groans became faster and louder until she eventually succumbed to the bliss, pounding her palm on the counter and letting out a guttural scream.

  With a huge release, she lowered back down to her heels and removed her hand from inside herself. She turned around, taking in the sight of Dylan standing there, naked, gently stroking his cock.

  The image took her breath a
way.

  "I didn't say you could turn around," he told her.

  She looked at him defiantly.

  "Why don't you spin back around and grab that counter again?"

  She paused, looking as if she might argue. However, she simply smiled and, after taking one more look at his beautiful body, turned to face the cabinets.

  "Take off that thong," he told her. "Slowly."

  Once again, she grabbed the straps of her panties, lowering them slowly as she bent at the waist, showing him every part of her.

  When the thong was finally on the floor, Dylan whispered, "Spread your legs and bend over."

  Placing her elbows on the counter, she glided her feet apart.

  She felt him fill her, catching her off guard, causing her to suck in a deep breath. He grabbed her hips and began pounding her with the same ferocity of their first encounter. She reached down with her fingers and stroked herself as he hammered himself into her, causing her whole body to rock back and forth. Her breasts bounced with the motion.

  She worked herself as furiously as he did, the complete and utter ecstasy proving to be too much. She came ferociously, her mouth wide open, making primitive sounds she'd never heard herself make before.

  He didn't take long to follow her lead. "That's right," he told her. "You take that cock. You stand here and you take every inch of it." He finished his statement with a throaty and pulsating groan, a signal that he was erupting inside of her.

  She collapsed onto the counter as he pulled out of her. She rested her weight of her upper body on the linoleum, her shaky legs unable to hold herself up. "My God," she puffed. After several more breaths, she added, "What you do to me."

  She looked back to see Dylan leaning against the opposite counter, his fists behind him as he exposed the front of himself. He was still hard for now, and she stared at him, storing that image for later in the evening when she would be home alone.

  They didn't say anything for a while, until Dylan casually remarked, "I need water."

  She giggled. "That was quite a workout, huh?" She was still trying to catch her breath.

  "You want some?"

  "Sure, thanks."

  Still naked, he reached up into the cupboard and pulled out two glasses. Using the dispenser from the fridge, he filled them both with ice water. When he walked over to her, he playfully pressed one of the glasses against her breast.

  She let out a scream. "That's cold."

  He just smiled, taking a sip from his own glass. She couldn't help but giggle at his youthful zest for life. Somewhere along the line, she had lost that.

  As they gathered their clothes, he approached her and, just inches from her face, asked, "So...did your husband do that to you earlier today?"

  "That?" she asked, before confessing, "No, I can assure you, he most definitely did not do that. He hasn't done anything like that in years."

  Chapter 19

  "I actually need to go to my aunt's house," Dylan told Melissa. "I have to pick up a few things that I forgot."

  "Do you want to go now?"

  "I can't," he explained. "It's after six, and your brother won't let me leave home."

  She had forgotten about the house arrest. "Oh, yeah. Tomorrow, maybe?"

  "That sounds good."

  They were relaxing on the couch, feeling almost like a couple to Melissa. The kitchen sex was still fresh on her skin, and now they were simply enjoying each other's company.

  She was frightfully comfortable with him.

  "Hey," she began, nudging him with her foot. "Back when you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?"

  "How young are we talking?"

  "It doesn't matter. Any time."

  "Well, when I was real little, I used to want to be a cop, ironically. Either that, or a firefighter."

  "You could still be a firefighter."

  "I don't think so," he replied. "Not with my criminal record."

  "They do background checks on firefighters?"

  "I would imagine so."

  "Huh," she said, "I didn't know that."

  "I don't know that for sure, either, but I would think they'd do background checks on all first responders. It doesn't matter anyway," he went on. "I don't want to do that anymore."

  "What do you want to do now?"

  He let out a snort. "I honestly have no idea."

  "There isn't any job out there that inspires you?"

  "None that I could probably get."

  "What if there were no restrictions? What if you could just snap your fingers and have any job you wanted? What would it be?"

  "Playboy photographer?" he replied with a laugh. "Does that count?"

  "Why am I not surprised by that response?"

  An adorable little grin graced his face. It almost made her want to jump him again.

  "Anything else?" she asked.

  "Honestly, I'm not really in a position to think long term at this point," he confessed. "I'm in 'one day at a time' mode. I just have to focus on keeping myself out of trouble."

  "That is true."

  "I have no intention of going back to prison, that much I do know. I don't know what I want to do, exactly, but I know what I don't want to do." He leaned his elbow on the arm of the sofa, resting his head on his palm. "How about you? What did you want to do when you were little?"

  "I wanted to be a nurse," she told him definitively.

  "Why didn't you do it, then?"

  "It turns out I can't stand the sight of blood," she replied with a laugh. "That's kind of a deal breaker."

  "Yeah, that does put a damper on things. So, then, what else did you want to do?" he asked. "You must have figured out before nursing school that you didn't like blood."

  "Well, I majored in business at college."

  "You went to college?"

  "Does that surprise you?"

  He looked like he was at a loss for words. "I don't know how to answer that without sounding like a jerk."

  "I won't be offended. Are you wondering why I went to college and now I don't have a job?"

  "I'm glad you said that and not me."

  "The question makes sense. I guess I always intended to get a job, but when I met and married Jim, he made enough money for me to stay home. I really liked being a housewife at first...but again, he used to only work nine to five. Now he's gone all the time and it's a lot less appealing."

  "Why don't you get a job now?"

  She grinned at him. "I kind of like the hobby I've picked up."

  "Yeah, that's true. I don't know why I'm encouraging you to do anything else."

  "I do realize this is not a long-term solution," she told him, exposing a vulnerable spot. She didn't want to think about the end of her tryst with Dylan. Trying to act causally, she added, "But I'm happy with it for now."

  "I certainly won't complain."

  She sighed, reluctantly saying, "I really should go, though. I don't want to, but I should."

  "Well," he replied, "I do have to go to my aunt's, so can we count on doing that tomorrow?"

  Giving one emphatic nod, she said, "That sounds great." She patted him on the leg before getting up from the couch.

  He got up with her, walking her over to the door. "Don't forget your stuff," he told her, handing over bag that contained the dishes and jewelry.

  "Thanks." She threw the strap over her shoulder and opened the door. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Do you want to call me when you wake up?"

  "Sounds good."

  She looked him in the eye and smiled before heading out the door.

  Once Melissa got back to her house, she sat by herself in the kitchen, looking around the room that was supposed to feel the most like home. This should have been the site of social gatherings and family meals. In reality, it was the room where she often sat alone at the end of the night, wishing she had someone to talk to about her day. Feeling sadness set in, she got up from the table and walked over to her calendar. She tapped the days with her finger as
she counted them, eventually putting another red X on the page before heading upstairs to go to bed alone.

  Again.

  "I don't know where your aunt lives," Melissa confessed, "so you're going to have to tell me where to go."

  "That's fine," Dylan told her as he buckled his seatbelt. "It's about ten minutes from here."

  "Speaking of your aunt, I have a question for you," she began as she pulled out of his driveway.

  "What?"

  "Why hasn't she ever visited you?" Melissa already knew that this woman didn't like him, but she had absolutely no idea why.

  "I'm not her favorite person; let me put it that way."

  "I don't understand that."

  He looked out the window as they drove. "She has a kid, and I think she's convinced I'm going to be a bad influence on him."

  "How old is her child?"

  "Four."

  "That's a cute age," she replied with a smile.

  Dylan just shrugged. "He's okay. I didn't really get to know him all that well, even though I lived there. My aunt made it clear that she wanted me to stay away from him." He pointed toward the windshield. "Take a left up here."

  "Did she think you were going to hurt him or something?"

  "Nah," he replied. "I think she was more concerned about my bad behavior rubbing off on him."

  "You haven't been doing anything that would be a problem for a child to see," Melissa commented, "except for, well, you know. But I don't think you would have been doing that in your aunt's house."

  "I wasn't. I didn't do anything there. I was afraid to move in that place. She made it clear that all I had to do was screw up once and I'd be out. Then I really would have been in trouble because I didn't know anybody here, and there wasn't a back-up plan. Take a right after the fence."

  Melissa followed his directions, making the turn. "Did she think you'd be doing drugs in the house or something?"

  "I don't know what she thought. I just tried to avoid her and the rest of her family. I spent most of my time in the guest room. I figured I couldn't upset them too badly if I stayed out of their way."

  "You know, I have to confess...I really don't see it. You seem like such a polite young man; I don't know why your family would have so much against you."

 

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