I stood from the table, leaving the aluminum chair where it sat and shut the kitchen light off leaving the light above the sink on. I made my way to my bedroom, shutting off all the lights as I passed the living room and dining room. Damn kids thought we owned an electric factory.
I flipped the switch in my room and began undressing. The shower beckoned my tight muscles. Instead of a hot shower, what I really needed was a cold one. Thoughts of Miranda’s bare shoulder at dinner swirled though my mind. Said shoulder pressed to my lips as I took her from behind. Teasing her until she begged for my fingers to play with her clit and relieve her frustrations. Her wet lips guzzling the draft beer and sucking out the water from her straw, was a scene I’d replayed over a thousand times. How her bare leg had kept brushing against my jeans and I had all but wanted to slide into her seat and do the things we both knew we wanted to do. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts as I finished getting undressed.
My room was basic. I had minimal furniture and it was fairly tidy as was the rest of the house. My parents had updated the carpet before their deaths and I had rearranged the room and bought new mattresses for the bed. Everything had been theirs and I’d kept it all. I had moved the bed along the wall closest to the master bathroom. The bathroom was just as basic. No real color, cream tile on the floor and partly back splashed behind the sink and under the mirror.
I twisted the faucet to the highest heat point and stepped into the shower. What a day. Seeing Miranda had left me with a semi-hard on all day and I couldn’t wait to blow a wad. Gripping myself in hand, I stroked and stroked under the steaming heat while I fantasized about her being in here with me. Thinking of her tits pressed against the cool tile while I fucked her from behind, rubbing her clit with my fingers was all it took to send me over the edge.
Chapter Nine
Miranda
I unlocked my back door and immediately set my belongings on the kitchen counter. It was a small three-bedroom, one-bathroom home that was perfect for me. It was all on one level and semi-outdated, but I loved it. My kitchen was small, done up with white cabinets. A window above the sink let me gaze into my small fenced-in backyard as I did the dishes. The yellow and grey curtains I’d hemmed from fabric I’d found in the spare bedroom hung over the window and I could see the accumulation of dust on the top edges of the fabric where it hung down from the rod.
Ehh. I ignored it, opened my fridge and grabbed a Pepsi. I kicked off my shoes, considered changing from my skirt into jeans and knew Ryan would have much easier access to me dressed as I was. Maybe I should take my panties off. I don’t know what he had planned, but I on the other hand, was going to make the most of this visit. He would have much easier access to my goods if I were wearing a skirt. And if he wasn’t looking or thinking about any of that this evening, my skirt would hopefully convince him otherwise.
I grabbed my notebook and stack of pens from the table and headed into my living room. It was small. I wasn’t much of a decorator. I had a couch, an end table, T.V., a coffee table and a reclining chair. I sat in my chair and opened my notebook to Ryan John’s page. Due at any moment, I decided to color in the hearts, transforming them into squares. There were a few things I wanted to understand before I proceeded any further. I jotted a few things down on my paper and the doorbell rang.
Oh, deep breath. My insides clenched at the thought of him standing on my door step...waiting to come inside my house! It wasn’t right I got this type of thrill from something so silly. But there it was. My heart beat furiously inside my chest and dear God, I think I’m sweating!
“Just a second!” I yell as I ran into the bathroom to quickly dab deodorant underneath my arms. Oh shit! I should have come in here and seen what I looked like instead of dilly-dallying around with the fucking notebook! I splashed water on my face, dried it, tried to run my fingers through my wavy locks and where was my mascara? I looked on the counter, pulled open the medicine cabinet and struck gold.
The doorbell rang again, and I quickly brushed some onto my lashes, sprayed on some perfume and ran out, fanning myself as I went so I didn’t completely douse the poor guy in scent. I rubbed my palms down my shirt and skirt, tried to calm my nerves and opened the door, certain he could see my heart beating out of my chest like some cartoon character.
He stood on the other side of the screen door waiting patiently. Why was he so good-looking? He didn’t have his baseball cap on today; his brown hair looked a little ruffled and a forest-green t-shirt hugged his broad chest and perfectly sculpted arms. Pair that with some denim jeans and the boy was on fire. So casual, so unpretentious and so much more hid underneath that cool complex, I couldn’t wait to discover all of his enigmatic ways.
“Hi,” I say as I open the screen door.
“Miranda. That sounds awful. You should try WD-40 on these hinges, it would really help with the squeaking.”
“I don’t know that I have any of that stuff but it’s not a big deal, I don’t use this door much. Only when I get the mail.”
“Well maybe next time I can be sure to bring a can anyway.”
“You’re saying there will be a next time?”
“Of course. I gave you my word, didn’t I?”
“That you did. Come in, please.”
I try not to let his comment depress me that he doesn't plan on having his hands all over me during this short visit, that he’d clearly planned on ‘just visiting.’
“Here’s my letter,” he hands it over as his eyes roam over me. Lust in his eyes as he takes in my legs. “Nice skirt.”
“I kept it on for you.”
“Is that so?” The blue in his eyes gets darker as he once again slides his gaze over my legs, setting me aflame.
I swallow, “Yeah, that’s so.”
He doesn’t say anything more and I open the letter and begin reading.
“I can keep this letter, right? Do you have a copy?”
“I made a copy.”
I glance up and his eyes are still roaming over my legs. I wiggle my body, playing dumb as I shift in my seat and pull my legs apart ever so slightly, hoping he’ll catch a glimpse of my panties, happy that I’d kept them on. For now, anyway. At the very least, he’d catch a glimpse of the soft skin on the insides of my thighs. As I do it, his eyes turn dark again, and he lets out a frustrated grunt. Satisfaction warms me.
“I’m sorry, would you like something to drink?” I stand and he stands as well. We are a foot or so apart and his scent tickles my nose, immersing me into the great outdoors. Wind, rain…I can't identify it, but it heats me up.
“I definitely would.”
“Okay,” I turn quickly before I decide to launch myself into his arms and he grabs my wrist turning me back to him. I stumble into him colliding with his solid body. His large hand keeps ahold of my wrist and tugs it behind me. With one hand perfectly incapable of moving, he bends his head down and captures my mouth with his. I don’t close my eyes. There is no way I can. I can't miss this. He is so damn sexy and he is coming on to me this time, giving in to his desires.
His possessiveness drives me wild. His warm tongue claims me, branding me like an animal and there isn’t a darn thing I want to do about it. His attack continues and my eyes, heavy with arousal, finally close, surrendering to his wishes. My free hand comes up to touch his neck, his ear, wherever, before he shifts and pulls it down behind my back, enclosing both of my wrists into one large, warm hand.
My chest is unnaturally stuck out into his thin shirt pressing into his torso, unleashing a desire in me for him to touch me there. His tongue tangles with mine and finally, his free hand shimmies up my waist, along my side, skimming the outside of my breast before holding onto my cheek and face. It is the gentlest gesture and along with my soaking wet panties, the move makes my heart catapult into the depths that are Ryan. I’ve never experienced a gentle touch like this before. Neither from a lover or a parent. The tenderness almost brings tears to my eyes.
His kiss softens
into little nibbles and bites along my lower lip. He lets out a growl and the sound makes me whimper. The heat of his mouth leaves a burning trail as he sears a path from my lips down to my neck.
“Please, I have to touch you. Please,” I beg.
“No, Miranda. If you touch me, that will be the fucking end of me. I’m barely holding on.”
I moan as his mouth continues its assault, not coherent enough to think of any way to respond to his firm ‘no.’ His fingers expertly flick open the top two buttons of my blouse and my breasts cry in exaltation. I want him to stop with the sinfully sweet sabotage of my body and grab my tits, rip my shirt off, anything to relieve this building pressure inside of me.
But he doesn't. He acts like he has no other care in the world. He works me slow and he works me good. His fingers graze my breasts above my purple demi-cup and just…graze, sending shivers along my flesh. His mouth doesn't stop its torture to my neck, my ear and eventually they replace his fingertips. All I could do was watch when I desperately wanted to touch! I lean into him as much as I am able to, gasping as his mouth feeds on me. I nuzzle my face into his chestnut hair at the side of his head and still it isn’t enough. This slow dance isn't enough.
“I want to cherish you. Slowly,” he tells me between nibbles.
“You have to let me touch you, Ryan. Please. I’m dying here.”
“I won’t let you die. I promise.” He chuckles against my skin once again sending shivers all over my body.
He finally frees one breast from my bra and sweeps his tongue over my nipple. It’s pure bliss and still not enough. I want him inside me. I want him to make me come while I ride him long and hard. We are definitely on different wave lengths. His mouth plays slow torturous games with my breast and nipple and my knees buckle.
“Whoa, Whoa,” he releases my wrists and uses both of his arms to help me. He sits on the couch and pulls me onto him. His cock is thick, bulging from his jeans and it's everything I remembered. “We should stop.”
“No, Ryan, we’re not stopping. In fact, I’m just getting started.” I shove off my shirt and unbuckle my bra allowing my tits the freedom they demand. His hands immediately cup them and knead them as he lets out another groan. He takes each of them into his mouth and feeds into my desire. If I was ever going to orgasm without my clit being played with, now could very well be that time.
His fingers find their way underneath my skirt and I guide his hand to the center of my sex.
“You are going to be the death of me, woman! You’re so fucking wet, Miranda.”
“I’m wet for you.”
His fingers rub my hard nub back and forth, over the thin fabric and my hips buck in delight, in anticipation, trying to gain enough traction to come.
“We need to stop, Miranda.”
“No, we don’t. You want this as much as I do, Ryan.”
He groans and I smile, knowing how much this is killing him. He continues to rub my clit, his overly large hand spreads my legs further apart to allow him enough space to move his fingers to their fullest potential.
“Stick them inside me,” I urge. I reach under my billowy skirt and grab his hand while simultaneously pulling my panties over, thrusting his fingers into my wet heat.
“Miranda,” he chokes out.
“Shh. Just feel me.”
I rock my hips back and forth, continuously into his hand as he moves his fingers inside of me. Gripping his massive shoulders, I shamelessly grind into this working man’s hand. I cannot stand it any longer. Throwing my head back as he pleasures me with more finesse and expertise than I’ve ever been a part of, I let go. I come into his palm, digging my nails into his solid body, crying out, screaming in joyous pain.
Chapter Ten
Ryan
That has been the second time. The second time she’s come undone into my hands. The second time my cock has twitched for her tight pussy as it sat wet and raw so fucking close to my dick. No longer a myth or a far-off memory, such as it had been, she was indeed, tight. She gripped my fingers with a ferocity I’d never witnessed. Her tight pussy almost had me squirting into my jeans but I kept talking myself out of the situation. Out of the fact we were good together…really fucking good. Out of the fact that I could read her mind and know just what she needed. I simply tried talking myself out of coming, period.
“I want you, Ryan. I want you to come for me.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Yes, it is. Feel yourself.” She moves her hand over my button-fly jeans and down the length of my hard-on. She is absolutely fucking right, but I am not giving in.
“I can’t help that.”
She begins pulling up from her straddled position and suddenly flops onto her knees between my legs, I suck in a deep breath. Fuck me. She looks so good kneeling there. Half naked, her face flushed.
“Let me. Please,” she begs as she fumbles with my buttons.
She’s so bossy and greedy, what was I going to do? Tell her no? Not when her hands were all over my freakin’ cock, begging to give me head. With her face inches from my dick and that lusty sugar-coated gaze in her eyes as she begs – begs – for me to pull it out and let her touch it.
I let her unbutton my jeans in a hurry. My cock springs from my briefs and into her hands as if she holds the magnetic strip calling it to her. Who am I kidding? She is fucking magnetic and she knows it.
“You’re big,” she gasps. Her breathy little voice makes my dick harder. I smirk. What else would I be?
“Were you expecting less?”
She absent-mindedly strokes my cock and keeping her eyes on my dick like she is shocked at finding something so large. Her lips form a half-grin like she’s never before experienced something quite so good.
“No, actually, I wasn’t.” She laughs, but it isn’t a full-on laugh, it comes from her throat like she can’t believe I called her out on it.
She touches the tip with her mouth ending all thought to have a conversation. She licks it, toying with it like a lollipop and finally, I lift my hips and nudge the top of her head for her mouth to come fully onto it. She devours it like a boss, opening her mouth wide enough to receive what I’ve pushed in there. I hit the back of her throat and her greedy mouth sucks it down, I swear to God, even further. It is pure bliss and I couldn’t recall the last time I’d had head, let alone head this toe-curling good.
“That’s it baby, keep going.”
If I’d felt this anytime recent, it was nothing like this. Nothing that felt so good. So hot and warm as she grasps onto the base and mouths it, up and down, like an expert. Yeah, a fucking expert. She knows what she’s doing. I watch as her head bobs up and down the length of my cock, it getting wetter each time her mouth stops at the tip. Her hand strokes me in time with her mouth while I thrust my hips in rhythm.
I am going to explode. She keeps her grip steady and her mouth in motion and I feel the familiar sensation traveling up my dick. She sucks me far down her throat and that’s all it takes before I unload inside her mouth. I can’t stop the growl that escapes my mouth as I push into her. My toes curl. I release my grasp on her hair and relax my head on the couch cushion.
Holy fuck.
“Was that as good as you thought about it being?”
I open my eyes. The sight of her knelt between my legs, her mouth still wet from slobbering on my cock and the way she uses the back of her hand to dab at her lips, has me seriously considering what I should do about her in my life. She was a no-no.
On the other hand, I sure as fuck didn’t want her going anywhere. Doing that to any other guy. I wanted her right where she was right now. With me.
“It was better than I imagined.”
My comment thrills her. She shakes her head, her brown waves fluttering around her, “You need me in your life. I wish you would accept that.”
I needed to accept a lot if things when it came to her but I couldn’t let stuff go. Not that easy. Definitely not that quickly. She went into her bathroom a
nd brought me out a washcloth and within minutes we are back to normal as if the erotic moment between us had never happened.
“Have you thought about a plan? As far as the letter goes?”
She sits across from me in her easy chair with her notepad and pen, gazing at me as if I have no clue who I’m dealing with. Trust me, after that episode, I knew who I was dealing with. Her mouth puckers on the cap of her pen. Shit, here we go.
“Of course, Ryan. I’m going to start where anyone else would start.”
“Where’s that?” Hadn’t I done that already by calling the company?
“The internet, of course. There are tons of websites out there where I can put in the corporation name and see what comes up. Also, I may be able to pull state records. People have to file to get proper documentation in order to be officially recognized as a Corporation. I’ll start from there and I will let you know what I find. How’s that?”
“That’ll work. You got my number?”
“It’s on my Caller ID.”
“Give me a call when you find anything. Anything at all, call me.” My eyes slide over her luscious legs, “day or night.”
She lets out a laugh, “I’ll try to keep it to day. I wouldn’t want you breaking your morals where I’m concerned.”
I stand from the couch and reach out, cupping her chin. I force it up so her eyes are looking directly into mine. I can see the various colors of green in her brown eyes then, something I hadn’t noticed before. For some inexplicable reason, I want her to know this. To hear me and know that what I was about to say was the truth.
“I broke my morals the second you fell into my arms wearing your royal blue dress. I broke my morals when I claimed your pussy on a stranger’s desk. I broke my morals when I kicked Yates’ ass in that parking lot. Baby, I broke my morals when I stuck my cock into your mouth. You’ve turned me inside out and there’s no way in hell I’m letting you off the hook that easy.”
Wet: A Small Town Romance (Love in Lone Star Book 1) Page 6
