by Ruby Ryan
And that's what really stopped me from going over to say hi: I had no chance with him. He wasn't just out of my league: he was playing a completely different sport with rules I didn't even understand. I'd had boyfriends in my five years at MIT, but they were always like me: goofy, nerdy, too shy to take charge or ask for what they wanted. It's who I was, and who I was meant to be with.
"I'm not looking for anything tonight," I said instead. "Just some drinks to relax."
"What you're looking for may be different than what you're looking at. Because you were looking at him the way the coyote looks at the roadrunner."
"Like he was a human-sized porkchop and you're a junkyard dog," Jason added.
"Like he's a glass of ice water and you're thirsty."
"Okay, okay, I get it," I said to stop their banter.
Jason looked past me. "Well, you missed your chance because the clover-tailed hunk is gone."
I looked over my shoulder and felt a pang of regret to see that his bar stool was empty, along with the bald fighter's. Now that the chance was gone, I felt the deep loss of a missed opportunity. I should have gone up to him. It couldn't have hurt to say hi. Maybe I was his type, whatever that was. Nerdy, I guess.
But it was too late now. I drank the rest of my wine in one gulp and said, "Oh well. Plenty of fish, right?"
I must not have been very convincing, because they both gave me sympathetic smiles.
"We're ready to leave if you are," Jon said. "I'm teaching swim class at 5, and if I don't get some sleep I'll probably drown."
"I'm ready," I said, but as I turned around I practically ran into him.
Him. The redheaded fighter. He'd put his T-shirt back on, but it didn't do much to conceal the lithe muscles underneath. Up close I saw his cheek was bruised, but as he smiled that only made him more gorgeous.
"Well then?" he said in that thick Irish accent that made my knees weak.
"Well then what?" I managed to say.
"Well then when were ya gunna let me buy ya a drink? Ya've been ogling me all night I ought to charge your eyes rent." He blinked. "Though they're so gorgeous I'd give ya a discount."
All of it--the accent, the cheesy line, and the way he stood just a little too close to me to let me smell his sweat-and-musk scent--was enough that I practically fell to the ground and wrapped my arms around his leg to keep him from ever leaving, like a petulant child.
Now he was staring at me, his gaze cool and calm. Waiting for a response. I hadn't said anything back; I was just gawking at him like a tourist at the zoo.
Say something, Harriet! What's wrong with you?
But that part of my brain was broken, and all I could do was lick my lips and stand paralyzed inside my own body.
"She'd love a drink," Jason jumped in. "She's drinking cab sauv."
"But I'll take anything you give me!" I blurted out. I immediately felt like an idiot, hearing the subtext behind the statement, and the truth of the subtext, and I felt my cheeks burning.
"Wine it is," the redhead said with a nod. As he walked away I stared at his chiseled ass rolling in his fighting shorts.
"Mmm hmm," Jason said, admiring the same view. Jon cleared his throat and jabbed his boyfriend in the ribs.
"I don't think he's your type, honey."
"What?" Jason said. "Even if the puppy's not for sale, I can admire in through the window!"
"I'm stupid," I said, beginning to panic. "That was a stupid thing to say. Right?"
"Calm down sweetie," Jason said. "Cheesy pickup lines are standard in these places. He probably thought it was cute."
"But I don't want to seem too forward..."
Jon put a hand on my arm. "You're overthinking it. Like you always do."
He was right. All he'd offered was to buy me a drink. Take it one step at a time, Harriet.
"Do you want us to stick around?" Jason asked. "Make sure he's not a creep?"
I waved them off. "I'm totally fine. Aside from being nervous. You two can go."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. I'll take an Uber home."
3
HARRIET
I did take an Uber home... but not to my home.
We made out in the back seat along the way, his warm lips pressed tight against mine, devouring me while his arms held me close. I let my hands move along his biceps, then his shoulders, and he felt so amazing, so unreal like a statue chiseled from marble, that I didn't even care that I wasn't wearing my seatbelt.
Just when I thought he was going to pull my clothes off and fuck me there in the backseat, we reached his place.
"This way, love."
He led me by the hand into an old brownstone style building that had been segmented off into apartments. His was on the third floor, and he turned the knob without using a key.
"You don't lock it?"
He gave me a sly smile. "My roommate and I are fighters. I hope someone tries."
It was a silly thing to say, and normally a dozen arguments would have come to mind, but right then it only turned me on even more.
He pulled me through the dark kitchen and into a doorway against the far wall. The queen-sized bed took up almost half of the room, with a bedside table and lamp and a closet to the right. But it was clean, cleaner than I'd expect from a man like him, and the bed was even made.
He closed the door softly, then paused to admire my body.
I felt his gaze move down my face, along my ample chest and then to my jeans. Slowly he took in my legs, then back up, lingering at my navel and breasts before locking eyes.
And for once, instead of feeling self-conscious about my body, I felt confident. I could feel the desire in those bloodshot eyes of his.
All of my worries melted away. Writing my thesis, and then presenting it, and then applying for my doctorate if everything else went well. Suddenly they had been yanked out of my brain, and the relief from it was a wonderful vacuum into which I wanted this gorgeous man's body to fill.
I wanted this. I needed this. And I hadn't realized it until tonight.
"God, you're beautiful," he said, taking a slow step forward in the semi-darkness. His hands touched my hips, feeling rather than grabbing. As they moved up my side I could feel the boxer's tape still there, so I took his right hand in both of mine and lifted it to my lips, gently kissing the knuckles before finding the end of the tape. I kissed along his wrist and arm while peeling the tape from his knuckles, extending his arm so I could press my lips against his bicep, which bulged and flexed as I touched it and sent a flutter up my loins.
While I did that, he leaned in and kissed the side of my neck. He was more gentle than I would have expected as he moved down to my shoulder, nuzzling against my collarbone, and I sighed into his hair.
The last bit of tape finally came away, and I let it fall to the ground.
And then his kisses grew more hungry, and his arm wrapped around my body tightened. He let out a desperate sigh as he spun me around, and then wrapped both arms around my body to pull me close against his. I gasped as one hand moved over my blouse to cup my breast, appreciating its weight while his lips kissed the back of my neck. And against my will I pressed my ass against his crotch, rubbing it against him seductively, beginning to fantasize about what would come next.
His hand that still bore tape slid down my belly, forcing its way into my jeans. Then it shot back out, and he unbuttoned the button frantically and pulled down the zipper, and I sighed as it returned to my crotch and into my panties and found my special place.
"Ohh," I moaned as he rubbed my clitoris with two fingers, the tape on his hand scratching through my fluff of pubic hair. I pushed my ass back against him harder, letting him know that it was good, so good, oh my God was it good, and I felt his hot breath on my neck as he petted me.
He ran his other hand through my hair, finding the two hair ties and tossing them to the ground. As my red curls fell around my shoulders he pressed his face into them, inhaling me deeply in a way I'd ne
ver felt. "God, I love how you smell," he drawled in that accent, which once again made my knees so weak I might have collapsed if not for his arm around me.
"You too," I sighed. "I love how you feel."
I felt him smile against the back of my neck as he rubbed my clit faster. Then he moved his hands deeper until his finger was sliding up against the wet lips of my sex, letting the palm of his hand rub against my clit, the friction of the boxing tape giving me a new and exciting sensation. Then his finger curled up and in, pushing inside my pussy, making me inhale sharply at the sudden intense feeling.
"You like that?" he said into my hair.
I tried to answer, but all I could do was close my eyes and moan.
His finger pushed to the second knuckle then moved in a circle, widening my walls and hitting every nerve, all the while rubbing his palm against my special place. He finger-fucked me for what felt like an eternity, a wonderful eternity with my back pressed against his broad chest, until he finally slowed, and stopped.
"I want you," he whispered in my ear, and I bobbed my head yes because I didn't trust my voice to speak.
I expected him to take me like that, but instead he spun me around and kissed me roughly on the lips, pushing me backwards until I fell onto the bed, bouncing up and down on the sheets. I had a perfect view of him pulling his shirt over his head, all the muscles in his core practically popping out in the contrast of the dim light. Then he was looking down at me like some Greek god, and I lay on my back and held my breath, waiting for what he would do next.
He removed the boxing tape from his other hand, slow rotations that drew the moment out. Then he pulled my jeans off, taking the panties with them, while I lifted my ass off the bed to let them slide off. While he did that I removed my blouse and bra, revealing my heavy breasts. He admired my nude body, taking me all in, and for once I wasn't self conscious. I could see how desperately he wanted me, and in that perfect moment I wanted him just as bad.
"Oh, you have the most captivating curves," he said, and his words washed over me like tingling waves.
He bent over to slide his shorts off, revealing his bulging cock. It pointed like a sword in the darkness, full of heat and potential.
He climbed on top of me slowly, never breaking eye contact. The chill of the room disappeared as his hot body covered me like a blanket of muscles, his thighs rubbing against my thighs and his chest against my chest. He pressed his pecs into my breasts, feeling them with his own chest, and his face stopped when it was mere inches from my own.
A lusty smile spread across his face, and damned if I couldn't stop myself from kissing him.
He responded quickly, shoving his tongue in my mouth and letting it dance with mine. I spread my legs wider, practically begging him to continue, because I could feel his throbbing cock pressing against my pubic hair and belly, and I wanted it inside of me, filling me, warming me until I moaned and trembled. And then just when I couldn't take it anymore, when I was close to breaking our kiss to beg him to do it, he pulled back with his hips and allowed his member to slide down, the head brushing past my clit until it slid down to my lips. He took a moment to rub it up and down, coating the head with my juices, and then pushed forward.
"Ohh," I moaned into his kiss. He was so big! I hadn't had sex since breaking up with my boyfriend four months ago, and it felt like he wouldn't fit. That he was too big, and I was too tight. But he moved slowly, a few millimeters at a time, and that familiar ache turned into the familiar ecstasy as he jabbed me deeper and deeper, until he was halfway inside, then three quarters, then pushing the last bit as if he couldn't control himself, breaking away from my kiss to gasp, eyes widening in his own pleasure.
"Oh fuck," he panted. "You feel so good..."
I kissed him again, and ran my hand through his straight red hair as I savored the feeling of him filling me completely. I let my other hand run over his shoulders and then his back, feeling the ridges and grooves of the muscles. We kissed passionately, slowly, not in any hurry while we remained joined at our sex and lips.
My hand reached his ass, and I couldn't stop myself from giving the meat a squeeze, and then he flexed it so hard that it instantly turned to stone under my palm.
"Ya like that, love?" he drawled, looking at me through eyelids heavy with lust.
I ran my other hand down until I was grabbing his tight ass with both hands. "What do you think?"
"I think ya'd like a little bit of this." He slowly pulled his ass back, allowing his cock to slide out of me agonizingly slow, one tiny grain at a time. I bit my lip as he smiled, pulling out all the way until it was just the tip of his cock inside, and I squeezed his ass tighter.
"Don't leave me," I said.
"Love, if I left you right now I think I'd die myself." Then he rotated his hips in a circle, allowing the head of his cock to roll around inside of me, pressing against each of my inner walls. The sensation was incredible, a wonderful tease, and based on his breathing it was driving him wild with lust too.
And then, suddenly, he thrust back inside.
It was a steady push, not too fast, an inch at a time until his base was pressed against my pubic bones and his cock was as deep inside of me as it could go. The pleasure was so great that it forced all the air from my lungs, and he was gasping too, his broad chest heaving against mine while his eyes drank deep from my pleasure.
He pulled back, all the way until I was certain he would fall out of me, but stopping again when just the head remained. And instead of lingering he pushed back inside immediately, a little bit faster this time but all the way to his base, then pulled back once more.
In and out he moved, faster and harder each time, until he was slamming his cock into me so hard it sent jolts up my spine. He kissed me, a quick peck to taste my lips, but then pulled back to stare into my eyes. I couldn't look away, and all I wanted to see was him, the pleasure of the expressions on his face while his breathing increased.
I squeezed his ass harder as if I were guiding his thrusts, demanding that he fuck me harder, and harder, and soon we were both panting and groaning in the darkness.
"Oh fuck," he gasped, running his hand into my hair to grip my scalp and hold me close, desperate to not let go. "Oh God! Ohhhhh!"
"Yes," I whispered, eager to see him cum. "Yes."
He cried out like an animal as he pumped me as hard as he could, the final one as deep as he could go, and his eyes widened almost with pain as he came, his meat spasming inside of me, shooting his hot redheaded load, and my own trembling pleasure mixed with the feeling that I'd made him cum so fast left me gripping his ass tighter and staring into his eyes so I would never forget.
He stopped panting long enough to kiss me again, then cocked his head. "You didn't cum with me."
I gave an awkward grin. "It felt really good!" Vaginal stimulation was wonderful, but I needed a little more than that to climax.
And then he pulled out of me and kissed down my neck and chest, and before I realized what he was doing he was moving his lips over my clit.
"Oh!" I gasped as he sucked the clit and skin, taking the entire thing in his mouth. I felt two fingers push back into my pussy, then a third, and he moved steadily as if we had never stopped.
I arched my back as he sucked on my clit, flicking his tongue against it at the same time. His fingers curled up and rubbed at my G-spot and I squirmed, tortured by the intense stimulation, being pulled toward my own climax faster than I had ever expected.
"I want to feel you cum," he said, breath hot on my navel. "Cum for me."
His fingers pistoned faster and faster while his tongue returned to my clit, a tornado of taste buds that made me clench my eyes shut. Everything was just right, the pressure of his fingers and the sensation on my bean, that I rocketed toward my climax like it was an unavoidable wall, and then I crashed through it, gasping with surprise and then ecstasy, and I grabbed a handful of his hair to make sure he never left my clit while I bucked into him, screaming.
"I..." I said, trying to catch my breath. "I still don't... know... your name."
He grinned a roguish grin from behind his cascade of hair. "I don't know yours either, love."
"I'm Harriet," I said, running a hand over his bicep.
"Pleased to meet ya Harriet," he said with exaggerated formalness. "I'm Roland."
4
ROLAND
I woke from the most amazing dream.
I groaned, my memory hazy. My head pounded, which told me all I needed to know about what'd happened last night. My knuckles bore the familiar ache that meant I'd boxed, and as I rolled over I hissed at the pain in my ribs. Yep. Definitely a fight night.
And as I rolled over, I realized my dream wasn't a dream.
Her golden-red curls were splayed out on the pillow behind her. She faced away from me, but I remembered her then: the girl from the bar, the one who'd been watching me. The one I'd bought the drink for.
The one I'd taken home.
Warmth came off of her like the desert, and I slid back down and pressed myself against her. She made a purring noise deep inside her throat as I threw a hand over her, holding her close.
Aye, I remembered her then. The wide hips that curved like the Irish shore, breasts thick and full and delicious. And the hair! She reminded me of every girl I'd ever fallen in love with as a boy back in Belfast.
Juliet? Henrietta? Shit, I was bad with names. But that didn't matter as much as the way she'd felt last night, warm body pressed against mine, eyes wide with bliss.
We spooned as the morning light streamed through the single window of my room. She stirred, rubbing her bare ass against my crotch, and I felt myself stiffen instantly. Good God, I could lay like this forever.
"Good morning, love," I whispered into her pretty red curls. "You remind me of the most beautiful woman back in Ireland, with hair like the sunset and eyes like the rolling sea."
