Bait

by M. Mabie

  Only nodding, she looked to me with the biggest brown eyes, the colors in them shimmered like a dark amber lager.

  “I need to hear you. Tell me.”

  “I'm sure.” Her voice was quiet, but steady. “Please, kiss me?”

  Please, kiss me?

  She didn’t need to ask me to kiss her. Why would she think she did? Her voice was like velvet, soft and smooth, and there is no way I could deny her anything. So, I kissed her.

  The sound she made when I slid my tongue into her mouth was so erotic. Like all of the sounds she made, it was pure pleasure.

  When I pulled her thigh up to my hip, I heard a whimper behind her lips that made my ears ring.

  The purr she made when I positioned her body underneath mine for that first time added minutes to my life.

  The way her moans were desperate and needy made me all the more eager to give. She was like my brand new instrument and I wasn't stopping until I heard every noise she'd make, including my name.

  I kissed my way down her stomach, all the while watching her reactions. And when I got to her center, her whole body shivered. Blake responded to my every move. My lips found her wet flesh and my tongue outlined the ridge of her sex. Her hips bucked, and I found myself moaning with pleasure from the erotic show.

  It was bewitching how the flick of my tongue, or a light graze of my teeth, in just the right spot, affected her.

  Her body arched as I took one long, last delicious lick up the middle of her glistening pussy. With one finger curled inside her, she came in my mouth. Her orgasm was silent, but her hands clawed at the sheets and her body pulsed against me. It almost did me in and couldn't control myself any longer. I had to have her. I had to be inside her.

  I couldn't help the way I went at her that first time. It was almost savage. My body did all the decision-making. I spread her legs and moved myself to her opening without a second thought.

  The second I was barely an inch inside of her, she sunk her teeth into her lip. I waited for her to let me know she was all right, or maybe I was giving her a chance to tell me to stop.

  She said, “Yes,” and I continued. That first inch. That first time inside. It was fucking Heaven. I moved steadily deeper and paused again. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open as I made the final push. She was so tight around my aching cock. I watched as lust mired her features. Uninhibited and exquisite.

  “Casey?”

  At first it sounded like a question she was asking herself, but I held myself there one more second before grinding my hips against her clit and then pulling just shy of out of her. I said nothing. Blake's dark eyes dilated as she exhaled and she said, “Yes.” Then, I lost myself. I couldn't get deep enough. I couldn't go fast enough.

  She cried, “Casey,” over and over. The harder I came at her the louder she got. I watched as she came, shaking her head side to side like she was telling herself no. Like she was fighting it.

  I stilled her face with one hand and made her look at me. “Don't fight it. Let go.” And she did. That sweet pussy gripped me and wrung me out. The feeling of her coming around me took me to the edge of my sanity.

  I was aware if I kept going like that I could hurt her, but something in the back of my mind told me that in the long run, she'd hurt me much worse.

  As I came, she leaned up and kissed my open mouth until I was empty.

  I didn't even have the strength to roll over. I pretty much collapsed into her heaving chest as we both fought to catch our breath. I was still inside her and I was so satisfied that I couldn't move.

  “Are you okay?” Blake finally asked me when I had lain there with my head in between her perfect breasts for minutes that felt like hours. It took everything for me to lift my head and smile at her.

  “Hi,” she purred.

  “Hello.”

  “What's your name again?” The little minx was playful post-coital. I so dug that.

  “Lou,” I answered and watched her face light up.

  “It's a real pleasure to meet you, Lou. Mind getting out of me? I need to use the lady's room.” And she wiggled underneath me.

  I rolled over to my side and watched her tiptoe to the bathroom. She didn't turn the light on or even shut the door all of the way. I couldn't see anything except her little feet tapping against the tile as she peed. Even that was fucking cute. I needed serious help.

  “I'm sorry, I don't remember if I caught your name or not. I'm at a loss right now if you could help me out...?”

  “Excuse me. How rude of me not to formally introduce myself. How un-ladylike,” she mockingly chided herself in an almost believable faux, Southern accent. “I must have forgotten my name and my manners. My name is...Betty.”

  “Betty, is it then?” I wondered why Betty, but I went along.

  “Yes. Betty,” she admitted and sauntered back to the bed after flushing and washing her hands.

  I rolled over onto my back and stretched my arm out to the side, she took it as an invitation to come to me and she was more than welcome there.

  “Lou, I have to get up very early and go shopping to replace my lost luggage. You're welcome to stay if you like, but don't feel like you have to. I'm sure I'll be sleeping well tonight.” She barely finished before giggling and curling into me.

  My hand lazily ran up and down her side, up to her shoulder and down to that perfect ass. Over and over. I felt her get goose bumps, but I continued anyway.

  I wanted to stay.

  “Well, Betty. How early is early?” I asked trying to get a sense of what she'd prefer. I didn't want to seem like the guy who couldn't take a hint.

  “Well, not too early.” She rolled over and clicked off the light, staying on her side that faced away from me. “I'd be more than happy to wake you up before I go-go.” She laughed at her stupid WHAM joke and I couldn't help it, I did too.

  “How would you wake me up? Maybe I'm an awful morning person.”

  “I guess you'll have to stick around to find out.”

  “You really are trouble, aren't you?”

  She only hummed a response. I fell asleep listening to her hum that stupid WHAM song until we both passed out.

  I'd never slept so well.

  Saturday, May 24, 2008

  I'D NEVER SLEPT SO well.

  The first thing I thought to myself, when I woke with Casey naked in my bed, was what in the hell was I thinking? The second thing I thought was this guy is sexy and fun and I can’t resist him.

  So, before thoughts of my boyfriend totally saturated the last of my resistance, I ran my hand around the waist of the big warm body that lay comfortably next to mine.

  Aside from the morning breath of which I probably suffered from, I couldn't think of any other good reasons why not to wake this glorious man up the best way I could think of. I slid my fingers gently around his front and down to find him already hard.

  Morning wood.

  Casey's morning wood.

  I almost pulled away when he stirred, but decided to try staying perfectly still, as not to wake him completely. He moaned a bit and rolled onto his back nuzzling his head deep into the pillow.

  His curly hair was a wreck. Big brown curls wound everywhere, sticking straight off his head. I brought the hand that was stashed under his pillow up to touch them. I lightly pulled a lock to see its reaction. Just as I pictured it would, it straightened out to about three times its curled length and bounced right back to its tightened spot after I let it go.

  He was so handsome, his face calm and peaceful. Full, black eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. He was adorable, as he lay there looking like he was grinning in his sleep.

  Getting back to my earlier mission, I set back to investigating his man parts that were currently tenting my crisp white hotel sheets. I slowly brought my hand around the base of him and was actually impressed.

  I'd felt him, all of him, the night before, but I wondered if it had been my excitement and my overactive mind embellishing his size in my memory.r />
  Nope.

  My hands were small. Please, no jokes about carnies or smelling like cabbage. I've heard them all. But my fingers wouldn't touch around him, maybe if I squeezed, but squeezing isn't stealthy and I was curious. I wanted to check out this specimen. If only to figure out what it was about him that caused me to be so…so careless. If I could only pin point what it was about him that made me forget why I shouldn't have done what I did, then at least I'd have a good reason.

  I didn't know the guy.

  I had had a one-night stand, something I’d never done before. Even worse, I’d cheated on my boyfriend in the process. What in the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t have an answer for that yet.

  And even though it was true, and my morals and conscience would be all over me later, I found my hand stroking him and my leg crawling up his. It was crazy how touching him turned me on so much. I wondered how far I could go before he woke up and decided to do some other investigating first.

  I abandoned his private parts for more conservative locations. I didn't want him to wake up to find me molesting him in his sleep. Who knows, the guy might have been really drunk last night and full of shit about breaking up with that girl. Maybe he just wanted some strange. Ewww. That made me the strange.

  My curious fingers made an exploratory pilgrimage over his hipbone and up to his belly button. He had a happy trail and I ran a soft finger in a circle through it, swirling the hair as I watched his sleeping face.

  His skin was smooth and hardly even a freckle blemished it. I pretended I was the only one who'd ever touched him, like I’d discovered this paradise in the form of a man. Even though the chances were, that a man who went home with strangers was most likely used to being touched. Probably a lot.

  His stomach was flat and tight. He was no beefy muscle man. He was lean. Almost, skinny. His abdominals were visible, but not in a fitness model kind of way, more like a swimmer or runner. His pecks were much the same. The lines of those muscles stretched upward toward his shoulders and hosted nearly perfect right angles in the center before parting aside his breastbone. There, and only there, did I find a few more playful, and somewhat, curly hairs. They'd be easy to count.

  I thought about naming them.

  The ridge of his collarbone was sharp, and on one side there was a knot before it fell away into his muscle. My hand gingerly roamed over it and I was curious about what had happened there.

  I look down our bodies and found his feet sticking out from under the sheets. They were huge. I guessed in his case, what they said about big feet was accurate.

  Looking at him, studying him, I should have felt guilty and I noted, surprisingly, I wasn't. Well, not yet anyway. I was sure as soon as he wasn't lying naked beside me that I'd see the error of my ways. I moved my thumb over his nose and traced his eyebrows.

  I was being seriously creepy.

  And my phone was ringing.

  Shit. How long had it been ringing?

  I wrangled free, the arm that was trapped under Casey's head, and rolled off the bed toward the sound of Grant's ringtone. If I didn't answer it, he'd keep calling. I didn't answer him the night before. I didn't even text him when I got up here to let him know I'd made it okay. He was probably freaking out.

  Bringing the phone to my face, I read that I'd missed seven calls and I had ten new text messages. It stopped ringing while I was on my way over, but only for a second. He didn't leave a message; he called again.

  “Good morning,” I said quietly, but somewhat chipper. But then again, I was chipper. I'd had a fantastic night and sex with a sinfully gorgeous man. The problem was that it wasn't with my boyfriend. My almost fiancé. It was with a stranger and he was still there.

  “Jesus, Blake. It's about time. I almost called your parents. Are you okay?” His tone was harsh, but I would have been be worried, too. That was, if I’d been calling him all night without any response.

  Would I have done that though? Called that much? Probably not. Especially, if he was merely spending time with friends who he hadn't seen in a long time.

  Traditional.

  Trying to keep my voice low, as not to wake up my guest—I didn't want to be inhospitable—I answered, “Sorry, I didn't hear my phone last night and fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow. I'm fine. How was your night?”

  “I can hardly hear you. Why are you whispering? Hung-over?” He laughed a little, teasing me, but he was right. I shouldn't have been whispering. I wouldn't if I were alone.

  Trying to compensate for my negligence, I spoke at a normal morning volume, “A little? It was fun though.”

  “Listen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ditched you. I thought that was why you weren't answering. I thought you were mad and you have every right to be. I should have come with you. I'm a stupid man. I'm sorry.” Very stupid as it turned out. And I was easy to distract.

  Apparently, we both sucked.

  “You better be. Listen, my luggage got lost on the flight. I have to go buy some clothes and get some things. I'll call you later, all right?” All true. Oh and there was a naked surfer-type guy in my king-sized hotel bed sleeping.

  “That sucks. Not a very good trip, huh?”

  “Uh, actually it's been pretty great. A girl can always use more clothes. Right?”

  I hated shopping. I'd rather saw my arm off.

  “Right. Well, pick up something nice. I'm taking you out Monday.” I heard the smile in his voice and I felt dread like I'd never felt before. What if he wanted to propose then?

  I almost heaved. In my hotel room. With the very visible left-overs of my one-night stand still in my hotel bed. I spared a glance at a sleeping Casey. My conscience demanded explanations, but looking at him, I realized I would have a difficult time listing them all. Who are you and what have you done with the real Blake?

  “Okay, I need a shower though. I have a lot to do. I'll call you later.”

  “All right, I love you. Have fun,” he said sweetly and my vision blurred.

  What had I done?

  I turned away from the bed so I wasn’t facing Casey. It didn't seem right to profess love to one man, while I lusted over another. Merely turning away from him didn't make him disappear though, not like I wanted him to or like it would offer any kind of privacy, but I did it anyway not wanting Casey to hear. “Love you, too. ’Bye.” And I quickly hung up.

  Before I turned back around, I heard a faint, “Lucky bastard,” come from my messed-up sheets. I looked over my shoulder and smiled. I lifted my phone showing him that I had been talking to someone, “Grant. Boyfriend.”

  “Casey. Horny.” I chuckled. I supposed there wasn't any point in hiding anything from him. He was in the same situation that I was.

  “Blake. Slut.” He frowned.

  “You're a slut? Shit. I wish you would have told me that before.” He patted the bed were I slept beside him all night and I went to him and sat. “Regrets?” he asked.

  Regrets? I thought about it and picked at my thumbnail. Do I regret it? I searched myself for the regret and it wasn't there. “No, I don't regret it. Do you?”

  “I can't really remember what happened.” He bit his bottom lip. “You might have to refresh my memory.” Then, his smile broke free. There he went again smiling and wiping clean away any trace of sensible thought I had. That toothy, lopsided smile equaled big trouble.

  “Nope. If you can't remember it, then maybe I dreamt it. That makes more sense anyway.” I replied to him facetiously as I thought about how I would very much enjoy to doing it again.

  I inwardly chastised myself. But I had been drinking more than normal the night before, when I slept with a guy I had just met. I could explain it away with lots of excuses.

  However, at that moment, I was sober. I had no excuses. Not his naked body. Not his pretty smile. Not his sexy, messed-up hair. Not the way his body pulled me to him. Nothing.

  “As much fun as that sounds, I really need to be getting around. I have to find some clothes and I
will perish if I don't get coffee soon.”

  “Perish? We don't need that.” He sprung up and the sheet fell away from his body. He stood and looked around. It shocked me. He hadn't any modesty. It must have been written all over my face. I could feel my eyes about to bug out of my head.

  “I know what you're thinking. How is he going to fit that big dick into those jeans, right? I get that a lot.” He rocked his hips forward, unashamed of his obvious arousal, and made a face like he was thinking, “Yeah.”

  “Oh my god. Were you like this last night? Maybe I do have some regrets,” I said, only trying to toy with him.

  He huffed. “Ouch.” He jumped up and down, getting his jeans on, all the while searching for his shirt, scanning my room. “There it is,” he said as he walked past me to the place where his shirt was wadded up on the floor. That was when I realized I'd been naked the whole time.

  Where the fuck was my brain? Here I was thinking how brazen he was and I was as naked as the day I was born. Newly aware of my exposure, I almost yelped and scrambled for the robe beside the bed.

  I wrapped it around myself and fumbled for the fabric belt to tie around and hold it shut. Casey walked to me and found the two ends that I had been looking for. He held them apart. Then, he quickly opened both sides of the robe and said, “Damn,” before tying the robe closed. He chastely kissed my forehead. “I had to have one last look.”

  The word “last” made my stomach roll. Last.

  He motioned to the bathroom, silently asking if he could use it. I waved my hand showing I didn’t care.

  “How about I go downstairs and give you a few minutes and then I take you to coffee?” he offered from behind the closed bathroom door.

  I should have stopped it right there. I bit at my thumb, in private, considering what to do.

  I'd probably see him later that night and having coffee, and spending any more time with him than I already had, would be detrimental. To my relationship. To my life. To my sanity.

  “I don't know. I think I'll grab a quick coffee and hit some shops. I really have a lot to do.”