by Sivec, Tara
“He tricked me is what he fucking did. He fucking tricked me!” I argue.
I don’t even know why I’m mad right now. All I know is being angry is preventing me from crying. It’s bad enough I’m in a fucking mall. I don’t need to add crying like a girl on top of it.
“He didn’t trick you. He truly cares about you and knew how to help you. He gave you sincere compliments on occasion instead of shoving them down your throat constantly. He didn’t make you stand in front of a mirror and tell him all the things you love about yourself because he knew you would probably stab him,” Cindy says with a gentle laugh. “He didn’t take advantage of you when you were feeling weak and vulnerable. He gave you orgasms without pushing you for more because he wants you to be comfortable with him. Sweetie, he helped give you back your power.”
And just like that, I’m crying in a goddamn mall.
Not because I tried on a pair of jeans that said they were my size and weren’t even big enough to fit a toddler, not because I have PTSD from trying to find a bathing suit where the top doesn’t make my boobs look like sausage spilling out of its casing and the bottoms are so tight I have permanent indent marks on my hips, and not because the workout I got trying to squeeze my ass into a pair of black leather pants made me sweat in places I didn’t even know I could sweat. I almost recreated that scene from Friends by pulling a small bottle of baby powder out of my purse that would have resulted in a sweat-powder paste in my crotch.
I’m crying because of a guy. A GUY. An annoying, sweet, charming, hot, funny guy who Kool-Aid-man smashed his way through all the walls I built around myself without my even knowing it.
“That motherfucking, dick bag, shit stick asshole . . . ,” I sniffle, standing up and swiping at the tears on my cheeks. “I need carbs. Right the fuck now.”
Cindy and Belle smile at me, linking their arms through my elbows and pulling me towards the food court.
“Carbs, and then lingerie shopping. We need to get you something spectacular for tonight that will blow Eric’s mind,” Cindy tells me.
“Piss off. I have plenty of lingerie at home. I’d rather spend the rest of the day plotting Eric’s death,” I grumble as we get in line at the soft-pretzel place.
My two friends just stand there and laugh, knowing damn well I’m not going to kill the guy.
I’m torn between wanting to fuck his brains out or come up with a lot more colorful words to call him when I see him later, though.
I guess I’ll have to wait and see which impulse wins out.
Chapter 20: Gang Bang, Party of Me
“You’ve been strangely quiet tonight. Are you nervous? You don’t need to be. You’re gonna kick ass on that stage,” Eric tells me as he pulls into the parking lot of Charming’s, and I continue staring out the window of his SUV.
“Of course I’m gonna kick ass tonight. I look good. And I feel good. But you already know that, don’t you? Of course you know that, because you know everything. Mr. Smarty Pants who thinks he can pull one over on me. Whatever,” I complain as he pulls into a parking space behind the building, far away from the door.
“I feel like I’m missing something,” Eric mutters, turning off the engine.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him shift his body in his seat to face me, one arm flung over the steering wheel and the other resting over the back of my seat.
“I told you going to the mall today would not end well. Did you kill someone? Do we need to leave the country? I made a big investment the other day, so money might be tight for a little while, but I’m sure I could wrangle up some fake passports,” he tells me.
I can hear the smile in his voice, and it just makes me want to punch his mouth. Or kiss it.
Goddamn it! Why can’t he just argue with me or call me a bitch? Why does he have to go along with my insanity and make me want him even more when I’m trying to stay angry?
“You back-doored me!” I shout, whipping my head away from the window to glare at him, even though it’s pitch black outside and the glow from the dashboard lights probably isn’t enough illumination for him to see the fire in my eyes.
“I’m pretty sure I would remember that.” He smirks.
“Stop being cute when I’m trying to be pissed off at you.”
“I’m not cute. I’m never cute,” he scoffs. “I’m hot and charming and irresistible.”
Fucking hell. I just want to launch myself across the seat and attack him.
I clench my thighs together to stop myself from doing exactly that. We need to have words first. I need to be an adult and talk to him like one instead of pouting like a child.
“You’re the reason I’m ready to strip tonight. You’re the reason I don’t look in the mirror and see everything that’s wrong with me. You’re the reason I no longer hear my ex’s voice in my head, constantly telling me I’m not good enough. I was supposed to be strong enough to do it on my own. I was supposed to get my shit together ON MY OWN!” I yell, looking down at my lap and blinking quickly to stop the tears from falling that have started to pool in my eyes.
“Hey, look at me,” Eric orders softly.
His hand comes off the back of my seat and he presses his fingers under my chin and tilts my head up to meet his eyes.
“As much as I’d like to take credit for you realizing how amazing you are, I can’t. Yes, I pushed you in that direction, and I gave you the tools you needed to help you remember. But that self-confidence that knocked me on my ass when I first met you was always there, just under the surface, waiting to come roaring back out of you and fuck shit up. You always had it in you. I just helped you find it again,” he tells me, pressing his hand against the side of my cheek.
“Why did you have to be so fucking sneaky about it?” I ask petulantly.
He laughs and shakes his head at me.
“What would you have done if I’d made you stand in front of a mirror and asked you what you see?”
“I would have slit your throat. And while you lay bleeding at my feet, I’d have told you I see someone who loves carbs,” I tell him sarcastically.
“Exactly. And I would have argued with you. I would have told you I see the sexiest woman I have ever met. I would have told you that every time I’m with you, my hands itch to run over your perfect curves, and it took a shit ton of willpower not to fuck you like an animal every time you’re within fifteen feet of me. I would have told you I’ve never wanted another woman more than I’ve wanted you from the first minute I saw you. I would have told you I’ve never met a woman more beautiful than you, inside and out,” he tells me softly. “But you wouldn’t have been ready for that. You weren’t able to look at your reflection and see all those things that I see. I needed to show you and prove it to you so you believed it. Until you could actually hear what I was saying and trust that I was telling you the truth.”
God, I want so badly to stay mad at him, but I can’t. He’s right. I would have laughed in his face if he did that to me. I would have shut him down and avoided him for being so obvious. I never would have let him work his way under my skin and into my heart. I never would have gotten to know him and realized about him the same thing he did about me: That I’ve never met someone more beautiful than him, inside and out.
Without second-guessing what I’m doing, I push myself up from my seat and do what I was trying to prevent a few minutes ago. I launch myself at him, thanking God this SUV has bench seating and not a stupid center console I’d have to climb over. Without smacking my head on the ceiling or banging anything important on the dashboard, I’m quickly straddling his lap on my knees, wrapping my hands around the back of his head and pulling his face to mine.
Eric’s arms immediately wrap around me, holding me close as I pour everything into this kiss. I kiss him hard and deep, clenching the hair at the nape of his neck as I lower myself onto his lap and immediately feel how hard he is for me. I’ve never been more grateful that I threw on a short, casual, pleated skirt than I am right n
ow. My skirt bunches up around my upper thighs when I seat myself on Eric’s lap and there’s nothing separating us but the thin scrap of my lacey thong and Eric’s jeans.
Cindy was right. He gave me back my power. And right now, I feel so fucking powerful and sexy that I want to share it with him. I want to show him how he makes me feel.
He suddenly pulls his mouth away from mine, his hands coming up between us to press against either side of my face.
“As much as I’m enjoying having you on my lap right now and it’s killing me to stop, if we don’t, I’m going to rip these fucking clothes off of you and . . .”
His words are immediately cut off when I swivel my hips, grinding myself against him. His hardness behind the rough material of his jeans creates the most intense friction between my legs, and I’m instantly wet for him.
“Jesus Christ, Ariel,” he mutters, jerking his hips up to meet me.
“You told me we weren’t going to have sex until I trusted that you weren’t going to hurt me or mess this up,” I remind him, pausing to drop my head to the side of his neck and kiss my way up to his ear, pulling his earlobe through my teeth and smiling to myself when I feel his body shudder beneath me.
I rock my hips again, the bulge in his jeans sliding right against my center, and I moan softly into his ear. Eric lets out a muttered curse, his hands grabbing onto my hips and his fingers digging into my skin, helping me move against him.
“I trust you,” I whisper. “I know you aren’t going to mess this up, and not just because you know I’d chop your dick off. You won’t mess this up because you think I’m beautiful, inside and out. You won’t mess this up because you’ve never wanted anyone more than me. You won’t mess this up because right now, I want to fuck you like an animal, and I’m pretty sure you want the same thing.”
Hearing a growl from deep in his throat that turns me on even more than I already was, I pull my head back as Eric lurches forward, slamming his mouth against mine. His tongue dives into my mouth swirling around mine, kissing me with so much passion that I’m mindless with need. Our arms and hands move in a blur, tugging and ripping at each other’s clothes, only pulling our mouths apart when I grab onto the hem of his T-shirt and yank it off of his head and toss it to the side.
We continue kissing as he grabs the front of my button-down shirt and roughly tears it open like it’s made of paper, buttons flying off and clattering against the window and leather seat around us.
Reaching down between my legs, I quickly unbutton and unzip his jeans and with our lips still fused together, he lifts his hips up a few inches from the seat to help me push his jeans and boxer briefs down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring out.
With one hand still wrapped around the back of his neck, I wrap the other one around the length of him and squeeze as I slide my hand up and down, pumping my fist as his hips thrust up and down between my legs with my movements.
“Jesus Christ, you’re killing me,” Eric moans, pulling his mouth away to rest his forehead against mine and look down between us at what I’m doing to him.
He is hot and heavy in my hand, and I never want to stop touching him, but I need more. I need him inside me, and I need to feel him everywhere.
“Are we really going to do this in my car like a couple of teenagers, princess?” he asks.
I stop moving my hand, but keep it locked tightly around his cock.
“Why do you always call me princess?”
He keeps his eyes locked on me as he slides one hand between my legs, moving the lace of my thong aside and running the tips of his fingers through my wetness, swirling them around my clit until I start whimpering and rocking my hips against his hand.
“Because you are a princess. A mouthy, take-no-shit princess who deserves better than being fucked in the front seat of a car in a strip-club parking lot,” he tells me, his fingers moving faster until I almost forget my own name.
“You’re right. I do deserve better. But at this particular moment in time, I don’t want better, because there isn’t anything better than this, right here,” I tell him, letting go of him so I can bring my arm up and hold his face in my hands like he did to me earlier. “I just want you. Inside me. Fucking me in the front seat of a car in a strip-club parking lot.”
His fingers are still between my legs, and I let out a whimper of protest as he stares up at me. I wonder for a second if he’s going to put his foot down about this whole princess bullshit, thinking I need to be laid down on a bed of fucking roses with candlelight and soft music playing in the damn background.
“There’s a box of condoms in the glove compartment. Grab them, and hurry the fuck up,” he orders, plunging two fingers inside of me, making me let out a gasping moan before I quickly shut it down and glare at him.
“Seriously? An entire box? You just happen to travel around with a box of condoms in your car?”
He laughs, and I try not to whimper when he pulls his fingers out of me, wraps his arm around me and holds onto me as he leans both of us to the side, opens the glove compartment and pulls out the box, holding it up between us.
“Yes. An entire box. Which, you’ll notice, hasn’t been opened since I bought it the day I met you,” he tells me. “There hasn’t been anyone since you walked into that fucking club over there and knocked me on my ass, princess.”
I nod at him.
“Good answer,” I reply, grabbing the box out of his hands and ripping it open so hard that twenty foil packets go flying all over the seat.
I cut off Eric’s laugh with a kiss and hear him smacking his hand against the seat until he finds a condom, and the sound of him tearing it open is almost more erotic than him moaning into my mouth. I feel his hands working quickly between my legs, and before I know it, he’s grabbing my hip with one hand and reaching between us with the other, moving my thong to the side and lining himself up against my entrance.
We both move at the same time without any hesitation, I lower myself down and he jerks his hips up, slamming all the way inside of me in one swift, movement.
“Holy shit,” I curse, smacking my hands down on the top of the seatback behind Eric’s head and holding on for dear life.
“Sweet Christ, you feel amazing,” he mutters, holding still so I can get used to having him inside me.
My head drops back and he leans his forward, latching his lips to the skin of my throat and kissing his way down as I start to rock against him. He’s so hard and full inside of me, and I’ve never felt anything this amazing. He fits me perfectly, and everything he does drives me crazy in the best way. His mouth continues moving down over my collarbone, making its way to my breasts, and I start moving my body, lifting myself up and down his length.
One of his hands slides under my skirt and palms my ass, helping me move against him, and the other comes up between us, pulling the cup of my bra down so he can circle his tongue around my nipple.
I’ve never really cared for having someone play with my breasts before. It never did anything for me. Probably because I was always self-conscious about their size. When Eric sucks my nipple into his mouth, it does everything for me, and I know it’s because of him. Because of his mouth, because of his tongue, because he does something for me. He does everything for me.
I immediately start bouncing up and down on top of him, clutching his hair in my hands and pulling his head up so I can kiss him. He grips my ass in both of his hands, pushing and pulling me up and down his cock, harder and faster, both of us panting into each other’s mouths, both of us racing towards the finish.
Part of me wants to slow down and make this last for hours, but that’s just pointless. Every time he thrusts his hips up roughly to meet me, his groin bumps against my clit, pushing me so quickly towards an orgasm that it takes the breath from my lungs.
Thrust, bump, thrust, bump, thrust, bump . . .
My thighs tighten on either side of his legs as I work myself up and down on top of him, slamming us together so hard
I’m pretty sure I’ll have bruises tomorrow, and I don’t care. I want to feel an ache between my legs when I walk, reminding myself of this moment. I want to see bruises on my skin to remember how wanted and beautiful Eric makes me feel every time he looks at me and touches me.
He continues driving up into me rapidly, pounding into me over and over and slamming my body down onto him until I have to tear my mouth from his so I can breathe, shouting his name at the top of my lungs when my orgasm explodes out of me.
“Fuck, I can feel you coming, baby. Jesus Christ you feel good,” Eric mutters, wrapping both of his arms around me and hugging me against his chest, his movements between my legs becoming erratic as he thrusts his hips up against me harder and faster.
Securing both of my arms around his shoulders, I hold him against me and continue moving on top of him until he quickly follows right behind me, holding on to me so tightly when he comes that I almost can’t breathe. He buries his face against the side of my neck, panting and muttering my name as I feel him pulsing inside of me with his release. A few seconds later, he lets out a low groan, slumping his ass back down on the seat. My body collapses against his as we both try to catch our breath.
My body is sated and feels like jelly as I curl into Eric’s chest, resting my cheek on his shoulder as his arms remain tightly around me, neither of us ready to move just yet. Or ever. I could fall asleep like this, wrapped in his arms, sitting on his lap with his magical cock still buried inside of me.
