Girls Vs. Love

by Mona Cox

  "C'mon," I say. "You know what they say about oysters…"

  She takes it from me in one hand. Her fingernails are painted a soft pink and make her hand seem even more delicate than it already does. She smiles and parts her lips. "Okay, just one more."

  I watch as she tilts the oyster into her mouth. It slides down her throat in one quick gulp, and as it does, I fight the urge to reach over the table and press my mouth to hers … and her lips…. and her neck.

  "Don't get me wrong," she says. "This is amazing—but maybe we should be cooking more. You have a great kitchen. Let's put it to use."

  "That's too much of a girlfriend thing to do," I say. And it really is. Where's the magic and romance in that?

  "Well … what do you expect? I am your girlfriend."

  I'm not exactly sure why, but that comment stops me in my tracks. It's a bold thing to say. I mean, I get it. I do. I know where she's coming from. We've been seeing each other—fucking, eating, and watching movies together nearly every night of the week, but I haven't considered what it all exactly means. And why should I?

  “And you were my girlfriend?” I ask. “Anything else I need to know? Just because I really didn’t know you were looking at me as your boyfriend.”

  I mean, I have nothing against it. But where was I when she made this decision?

  I’m worth several billion dollars. I’ve lived all over the world. I’ll be damned if I get henpecked like a castrated suburban house man.

  "Oh really?" she asks. "So what do you call this—us?"

  "Why does everything need a label? As soon as something has a label stuck to it, the magic is gone. It's trapped in a box."

  Fine. I’m also a bit scared. But repeat it to anyone and I’ll deny it.

  "So, if I'm not your girlfriend … then I guess that means I don't need to fuck you tonight?" she asks playfully. Even though she's being frisky and good-humored, I see a hint of seriousness in her eyes.

  "Well, you don't need to, but you want to," I say.

  "How do you know what I want?"

  "Call it intuition," I say with a wink.

  "If I'm not your girlfriend, I think what I want has changed."

  "Is that so? Even after these oysters… and chocolate…? It doesn't get much better than this," I say.

  She slaps me playfully on the arm, and once we finish our food, we head outside to catch our limo, arm in arm. When we both slide into the black leather seats, she leans over to me, and softly kisses me on the lips.

  "Thank you for a great dinner," she says, "Even if it was decadent … as is making my ass wide."

  I wrap one arm around her and kiss her back, taking her bottom in between my teeth and giving her a small nibble.

  "You're perfect," I say.

  I can feel her reach over and place one hand on my thigh, and she slowly moves it closer to my cock until she's finally grasping it beneath my suit pants. I can feel myself growing hard under her touch, until my cock is pulsing and threatening to bust through the zipper.

  Just then she leans back and releases her grip on me.

  "Stop the car please," she shouts to the driver. My mind is reeling. Why is she stopping?

  "What are you doing?"

  "I only spend weeknights with boyfriends," she says. "So, I guess that means I won't be sleeping over with you tonight."

  I watch as she opens the door. I'm fucking speechless. Is she really turning me down and getting out of the limo?

  "Are you serious?" That's the only thing that comes out of my mouth.

  "Good night, Derek," she replies, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder.

  "Look, two can play this game," I say. "If you really want to be alone tonight, that's fine."

  But she doesn't say another word and exits the limo and shuts the door, and with that the driver takes off. I look out the window, and back at Alicia. She's walking toward her apartment, her purse slung off one shoulder. I continue to watch her until her figure fades in the distance, and then it hits me. What the fuck am I doing? I'm being stupid. This is ridiculous. I can't leave her like that.

  It still takes me five minutes going down FDR Drive towards Lower Manhattan to realize what a mistake I made.

  The driver has turned on some soft background music and I yell to him over the noise. "Turn this car around!"

  He turns the volume down and asks, "Excuse me?"

  "Turn us around. I need you to take me back to the Upper East Side."

  "Yes, sir."

  He speeds back uptown and fifteen minutes later I look at the window and watch as Alicia's neighborhood comes back into view. Within a few moments, the limo pulls up to her curb.

  "Thank you! No need to wait," I say.

  "You're welcome, have a good night sir."

  I close the door and rush up the steps to Alicia's apartment. I reach her door and knock.

  I don't hear any noise and I knock again, this time a little louder.

  Still nothing. Has she already gone to bed? I haven't been gone that long, have I?

  I try one more time, and just as I'm about to turn around, I hear her footsteps. She opens the door and she's beautiful. Her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. She's changed into a silk robe and it looks incredibly sexy on her.

  "You're back?" she asks.

  Without saying a word, I step toward her.

  I’m never going to leave her.

  So, yes. I’m back.

  10

  Alicia

  So I guess this is what happens when I decide to keep my mouth shut about potential international money laundering, huh?

  The guy I’m covering for doesn’t even want me to be his girlfriend.

  Well, fuck him.

  That’s what I tell myself as I open my cupboard and take out a bottle of wine.

  That’s right, babe. I’m drinking by myself. I’m going to nurse my wounded pride.

  Whatever. I mean, I got him hard and left him, which was probably a bitchy thing to do, but it’s part of the dance.

  I’m all changed into my comfy silk robe and I’m going to watch Teen Mom on MTV and drink till I get sleepy. Then I’ll go to sleep and call Mom and Dad in the morning on Skype and tell them I love them.

  Sounds like a plan.

  Oh my God…it’s a plan all right. For spinsterhood.

  That’s when I hear a knock on the door.

  “Alicia?” I hear a voice.

  It's Derek.

  Damn, I musta left him with some big blue balls, huh?

  My heart races even more and I hesitate for maybe a second and then run across the living room and open the door.

  Derek's standing there, about to knock again.

  I open the door and look at him. “You’re back…” I trail off.

  "Why'd you go?" he asks me bluntly. "Was it really to teach me a lesson?"

  I look at him. He's looking at me. I don't see that smirk of his. I don't see the cocky, arrogant billionaire prick that the newspapers say he is when I Googled him. I don't even see my client I’m investigating and hiding what I know from.

  I see the most handsome face I've ever seen in my life. Attached to the hottest body I've ever been close to—my fantasies can't even compare to what this guy has.

  He doesn’t know that every fiber of my body wanted to just inhale his cock in the limo. That during dinner today I was thinking screw work. Let’s give love a chance.

  But when he just went off on how he doesn’t do girlfriends I completely went the other way. Thought I need to protect myself from falling for him even more.

  No, Derek knows nothing of this. He should be lucky he doesn’t have to go through this.

  I turn away so he doesn’t see my face and walk to the window.

  Okay, I know it’s dramatic. Whatever. I don’t want him to see me like this.

  I can feel him come up close behind me. I can feel his chest against my back. "Why?" he asks.

  My heart's racing and it feels like it's going to burst. "Y
ou’re not looking for a girlfriend," I murmur, feeling his hands on my sides. It feels so good. I take a step back without realizing what I'm doing and find myself pushed up against him. I can feel his cock. It's poking into my ass. I move my ass slightly, nestling his cock in between my ass cheeks.

  "That's why you left?" he asks me. "Because I said I’m not looking for a girlfriend?"

  I'm not thinking about a relationship anymore right now though. All I'm thinking about is Derek's cock. God, I need his cock. His arms are on my waist, pulling me closer.

  “I’m sorry,” he says to me. “I’m an ass. I can’t last fifteen minutes without you.”

  His cock pushes through my robs, parting my ass cheeks.

  “I…” I’m stammering. I can’t think. I press back against him, my ass rubbing against his crotch. Oh my God, what am I doing? The fabric of my robe is so thin that I can already feel it bunching up on my ass.

  He stays where he is, his cock nestled between my ass cheeks, and I feel my whole body boiling. He’s big… He’s so big. And I want it, there’s no other way about it. I can’t think of anything else but his body and his hard cock. Because, yes, it’s very hard…

  My skin prickles as I realize what’s happening: Derek’s here in the room with me, and he wants me. And if he wants, he will have me. I can’t fight against it! The desire that crawls under my skin is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt in my whole life. I know this is a mistake, but I can’t run away from what’s about to happen. I just can’t.

  Before I know it, I’m rubbing my ass up and down against him, his pulsing cock against my body. His hands go down my side to the hem of the robe and he lifts it up, baring my ass. His fingers brush against my skin and trace the contour of my thong, and I shudder at his closeness. I push back once again, rocking my hips against his body as I grind over his cock.

  Even without being able to see what I’m doing, I take my hands to his back and try to find the hem of his pants. My trembling fingers find his crotch, and in an instant, I’m unbuttoning his trousers. When I’m done his cock immediately tents up his boxer briefs and jumps up against my hand; but before I manage to grab it, Derek pushes against me and I have to take my hands to the wall.

  With one hand on my waist, he grabs my ass with the other. I sway my ass against him, over his cock, my mind already looking forward to how it will feel to have him inside me.

  His hands slide around my waist and under my robe, climbing up my inner thigh and making my skin prickle. His fingers brush over my groin, and if I was wet before, I become completely drenched now. I close my eyes, moving my hips harder and grinding against him almost desperately. A moan leaves my lips as he brushes his fingers over my thong, applying a gentle and barely noticeable pressure over my wet pussy.

  God, I don’t know if I should press back against his cock or press my pussy against his hand. Now these are some good problems to have.

  He solves my dilemma pretty quickly; he presses his hand over my pussy and pulls me into him, his cock pressing hard between my cheeks.

  I dart my hands back, resting it over his boxers and clumsily grabbing at his hard long shape there. I knew he was big—those were the rumors—but I never imagined he would be so… massive. He’s so thick it’s even hard to curl my fingers around it…!

  I yank down his boxers and his cock springs free at once, slapping against my ass. I take my hand back to the wall and jut my ass back as he presses hard on me, his warm cock finally rubbing against my ass.

  I grind against him in abandonment, and I tell you, if this is the only thing we’ll do… Well, I’m going to be a very happy girl nonetheless. Lucky me, I know neither him nor I will be able to stop.

  One of his hands climbs up my side and crawls toward my chest, finding its way under my robe and cupping my right breast over the bra. He pulls at the cup, baring my nipple, and he presses it then between two fingers, pinching it. I rest my forehead against the wall, biting down on my lower lip as a storm of lust rages inside of me.

  Still pinching my nipple, he flicks my thong to the side and brushes the tip of his finger against my wet pussy. My whole body shudders in anticipation.

  He traces the contour of my pussy as if he wants to absorb all of it, carefully brushing against its outline and gently circling my clit.

  He does it for one minute, carefully coming and going, each time applying just a little bit more of pressure. As he does it, I keep pressing my ass against his pulsing cock, my heart tight in my chest; I’m so anxious and expectant it’s unreal.

  When he presses his fingers over my clit, I open my mouth and moan. And I can tell you, I’m moaning hard. Derek isn’t simply rubbing me, or tapping his finger against my clit; no, he knows precisely what he’s doing and what kind of reaction he wants out of me. He rubs the tip of his finger around my clit and then presses it from above, indirectly, and I feel fire under my skin consuming me with desire.

  Letting go of my clit, he goes down over my pussy, gently parting it with his finger as he goes up and down on my slit. He lets his finger go inside of me just one inch, and my whole body tenses up, waiting for him to go all in. Derek takes his time, though, slowly letting his finger in as if he has all the time in the world. He pushes it in gently, curling it upwards and rubbing me from the inside; when he pulls back, I can barely think straight. All I want is his cock deep inside me.

  “Derek…” I have to tell him. I don’t know how to say, but I have to. “I think I….”

  I trail off.

  Ugh. I’m such a weirdo. Why can’t I just be like every other single girl in New York City and enjoy fucking with wild abandon? What’s this about wanting to be in a relationship.

  But Derek knows what I’m about to say.

  “Alicia,” he says sternly. “I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”

  I nod. I guess that’s that. Maybe we’ll be fuck buddies? Booty calls?

  God, that’s so depressing. I can’t be fuck buddies if I’m already starting to crush hard on the guy.

  “Alicia,” Derek says again, his tone drawing me back from wherever I was. He’s looking at me. He knew I was off in my head. “Let me rephrase my sentence earlier. I’m not looking for a girlfriend…because I already have one.”

  Wait. What?

  “She’s standing in front of me,” he adds, more for my sake than yours I think. You probably already figured it out.

  I mean, I expected him to tell me to grow up. I almost even expected him to leave; after all, what kind of woman my age quibbles about things like this? I expected a lot of things, just not what he said.

  “Next time, let me finish my sentences,” he whispers against my ear, and the sound of his voice wraps itself around my mind, blanketing it with lust. He takes both his hands to my waist again, making me turn around and face him.

  He brushes a stray lock of hair and tucks it over my ear, his fingers gently resting against my cheek as he looks into my eyes. I’m melting right now, I really am. How is it possible for me to want him this bad? When he leans into me and I close my eyes, I know exactly why: he’s perfect. Everything in him is perfect. I wouldn’t change a single inch on him.

  His lips touch mine and sparks fly all over my body. I part my lips and brush my tongue against his mouth, my hands going to his chest and feeling the tight outline of his muscles bulging under the shirt. I take my fingers to his collar and start unbuttoning it, taking my time with each button, enjoying the way his warm skin brushes against my knuckles as I go lower.

  His shirt unbuttoned, my fingers fall on the hem of his trousers and then slide inwards. Soon, I’m touching his thick shaft, my hand almost trembling in excitement. I grasp it, holding in my hand however I can; he’s so big I can’t even grab him properly.

  Grabbing it tightly, I start flicking my wrist and moving my hand up and down over his cock. I start slow, but soon I surrender to the madness that’s taking over my mind and I start stroking him fast and almost too violently, my body doing it on i
mpulse.

  Derek takes his hands to my chest, and grabbing at my robe, yanks on it and opens it. I arch my back, anxious to feel his naked chest pressing down on me; he grabs the hair behind my neck and pulls me back, looking once more into my eyes. Holding my head in place, he takes his other hand to my back and unhooks my bra, pushing it down my arms.

  I dart my other hand to his cock, and with both my hands there, I start sliding them both up his cock and repeating that motion over and over again, only stroking him in one direction.

  I pant as he slides my robe down my arms, my naked body there for the taking. His hands go to my ass, cupping both my cheeks, and he lifts me up in the air, holding me into him. I hold on to him by wrapping my legs on his back, and he takes me to the bed in my room. He puts me down on top of the mattress, his body falling on mine.

  Instinctively, I thrust my hips upwards, rubbing my thong against his cock. I hear his shoes fall to the floor as he kicks them off and I take the hint and move my hands to the hem of his trousers, tugging on them and pushing them down his legs with his boxer briefs.

  I want him inside me, and I want it now.

  He knows it too; he grabs at my thong and slides it down my legs. With one hand under the nape of my neck he starts kissing me again, nibbling at my lips as his hands grab at my breasts. He kisses my chin, my neck, his lips only stopping when they wrap themselves around one hard nipple and suck on it, drawing purred moans out of me.

  Moving my hips from side to side, I position myself so that his shaft rests right over my pussy, and I rub myself against it.

  With a grin, Derek grabs at his cock and fits his tip between my folds, holding it in place and not allowing it to go any further. I try and thrust my hips against him, but he doesn’t buck, simply rubbing his tip over my pussy and making my mind go numb with yearning. If there’s one thing that he knows, it’s driving a woman completely insane.

  “Please…” I beg, not capable of holding one more minute without having him inside of me. “Please.”