Booty Call

by Ainsley Booth

  “Nope, this is…fun.” My mother would be horrified. Maybe so would his ex. I like that idea and strip down to my panties and a tank top and climb onto the bed. “Let’s do this.”

  “What was that evil little thought you just had?”

  “Nothing.”

  He shoves his pants off and joins me, his gaze bright and knowing. “Not nothing.” He cups my cheek, holding me in place as he searches my face. “Tell me.”

  “I was thinking…proper people don’t do this.”

  “Ah. People like Madelyn?”

  “And my mother.”

  “Good that you put them in the same category,” he says. There’s an edge to his voice, but it’s not aimed at me.

  “Yeah.”

  He tugs me into his lap. “You want to know anything about her?”

  Yes. No. “I’m still struggling with the idea that you were engaged to her.”

  “You and me both. It was a mistake.”

  “I got the impression you aren’t the marrying kind.”

  “I wasn’t, and Maddie proved that point pretty hard core. Marrying her would have been a terrible mistake.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t love her.”

  “But you proposed to her.”

  “It wasn’t…whatever fantasy you’ve concocted of a proposal. No grand gesture, no bended knee. It came up one day and it seemed like the obvious next step for us. My cousin is her best friend, we had common interests…”

  “And when did it become obvious that it wasn’t actually the next step for you?”

  His jaw flexes and I wonder if I’m pushing too far. But he doesn’t tense up or pull away. He gives me an embarrassed look. “She cheated on me.”

  “Oh.” That’s awful.

  “She married the guy. He had me kicked out of the country. Super messy.”

  “Wow.”

  “We never would have gotten married. We couldn’t pick a date…we never lived together…I mostly feel like an idiot because it took being cheated on to make me realize she wasn’t the one for me.”

  “I’m sorry she hurt you.”

  “I’m not. Not anymore. It led me to you.”

  “Still…”

  He shifts me to the side and opens the pizza box. “No still. Really, it was a learning experience, nothing more.”

  “What did you learn.”

  He hands me a slice of pepperoni and mushroom and gives me a grin. “She’s not someone I could eat pizza with naked.”

  I laugh, because we’re not naked. Yet. But there’s a kernel of truth there. I swallow hard. “Is that important to you?”

  He licks a bit of pizza sauce off his thumb and grins as he leers at my boobs. “Feels pretty damn important, yeah.”

  “God, you’re the dirtiest.” But I’m grinning too, because warmth is filling my chest and spilling down my arms. This is happiness. And neither of us have had nearly enough of that in our lives.

  We eat in companionable silence, watching something on the TV but I’m not following it at all, and neither is he. I keep turning over in my head what he said.

  “What else is important to you?” I finally ask.

  “This is enough. This is plenty.”

  “I know…” I take a deep breath. “But if I wanted to step outside my comfort zone and give you something else?”

  His eyes light up. “Think I could keep my hands to myself if we went to a movie tomorrow night?”

  “It would be a dark theatre. Why would you want to?”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Depends what’s playing.” I reach for another piece of pizza and take a big-ass bite. “If nothing’s good, maybe we could go to the mall. Get fries and sit in the food court.”

  He barks out a laugh. “So all the other kids in high school can see that we’re going steady?”

  “Isn’t that what you want?”

  He pinches the pizza out of my hand and pulls me on top of him, tugging the hand that he’s gripping all the way to his mouth. He sucks off the pizza grease, then keeps sucking until my eyes go soft and my breath goes funny.

  “Yes, I want to go steady with you, Ali.”

  Well, that’s fucking terrifying. I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Okay.”

  “How close is my girlfriend to freaking out about the pizza sauce on her sheets?”

  Less than I was before, because it makes my boyfriend happy, but I’m not going to give him that yet. That little bit of knowledge is just for me. I’d do anything to make him happy. Anything. And that’s just a few steps away from losing myself completely, which is so not the plan. I shrug. “This is why we’ve got washing machines, right?”

  He can’t see the freakout in my head, thank God. He’s just looking at me with the best look on his face, and I make myself focus on that. It’s easier when he traces my bottom lip with his thumb.

  Everything is easier when he’s touching me. Grounding me.

  I swipe at his thumb with my tongue, inviting him into my mouth. His eyelids droop as he slowly presses his thumb over my lips. “I like calling you that. My girlfriend. Like it gives me all sorts of special privileges.”

  I suck in response.

  He growls.

  I suck harder.

  “Not that kind of special privilege, you minx.”

  I let go of his thumb with a wet pop that makes me slick between the legs. “You sure you don’t want the boyfriend blow job?”

  He groans. “How is it different?”

  “I’ve been doing my Tumblr research.”

  “God yes.”

  I laugh as he falls back, his cock popping to attention. Kissing my way down his chest, I lick his nipple, then the line of hair down the furrow between his ridged abs. It’s narrow and sparse, then a little thicker right before I get to his erection. It smells like soap right now, but beneath it is a raw, masculine scent of skin and virility. Do all men smell this good? I’m guessing not.

  And the fact that I don’t know—and, Lord help me, I may never know—turns me on like nothing else.

  I kiss my way down his shaft, pausing at the head to lick the pearly drop of pre-come there. I’m quite sure other men don’t taste as good as him.

  Sad to be other girls, then.

  Awesome to be me.

  “You taste yummy,” I whisper, and he groans helplessly. I grin. The power of a blow job. And Tumblr promises me that if I trail kisses down the bottom of his cock, all the way to his balls…

  My face heats up as I remember the rabbit hole I went down when I looked up why people shave their balls.

  I keep going anyway. When I reach his sac, he rocks his hips. Oh good, he wants my lips there. But a dark thought crosses my mind. I don’t want to ask him, of course. Jealousy has no place in the boyfriend blow job. It’s a sex act of assuredness, one filled with the dirty deeds protected by the trust between two people who love each other.

  But if that British skank sucked on Scott’s balls…

  Okay, being dirty maybe makes me petty.

  Maybe.

  Definitely.

  I brush my lips over the tender skin in front of me and he shudders. Feigning an indifference I definitely don’t feel, I ask, “Do you like having your balls sucked?”

  He freezes. “Would you?”

  “Answer the question.”

  “I’ve only imagined it, but yeah…fuck, yes.”

  “Nobody…?”

  He groans and rocks his junk closer to my mouth.

  Good enough for me.

  In comparison to his thick erection, his nuts are smallish. I think. Maybe it’s just by virtue of scale, like a walnut next to…Jesus, I don’t even know what foodstuff to compare Scott’s cock to. Zucchini sounds rude.

  “Ali, suck on me.” He’s begging. Oh, I like that. Enough thinking. I soften my lips and open wide, sliding one ball into my mouth with my tongue.

  He immediately makes his grunting, gonna-come noise, and his hand closes around his erect
ion.

  A tingly satisfaction ripples through me and I suck a little harder—just a little—to see if he likes that, too. He does. Thank you, Tumblr porn. Softly, I release him, and suck the other side into my mouth. Again, I work up to sucking hard, and again, he sounds close to coming.

  And I haven’t even worked on the relaxed-throat, how-deep-can-I-go game.

  His hand is working pretty hard right now, but I want his come in my mouth. I want to suck him over the cliff and into oblivion. I shift a little higher, letting my boobs brush the insides of his thighs, then his wet balls. He shivers as my mouth finds the flared head of his cock, slick and coated with his pre-come.

  About to be a hell of a lot slicker.

  As his fist jerks down again, I swallow the top half of his cock. When he lets go, I replace his hand with mine.

  His fingers tangle in my hair, and I let him set the pace. If he wants to fuck my face a little, he can. He’s earned it. My circled fingers bump against my lips as I pump him up and down, catching a bit of spit each time until he’s coated and it’s all slick and smooth as he uses my mouth, faster and harder.

  He growls my name. “Fuck, yeah, swallow my load. Oh, babe, your mouth…”

  The first hot spurt takes me by surprise but I swallow the rest like a porn star, then clean him up with soft, gentle laps of my tongue. I kneel between his legs and grin at him, proud as a peacock. “Yeah?”

  “Your turn,” he growls, flipping me onto my back.

  He spreads me open and dives right in, his tongue the first touch between my folds. No fingers, not foreplay to the foreplay. He’s like a dying man at a pool of water, and who am I to deny him his fill?

  I hitch my knees higher and prop myself up on my elbows.

  It takes my breath away, this view of this giant man between my legs, his dark head bobbing as he sucks and licks and flicks me into bliss. “I want you to shave me again,” I whisper as he teases the short curls there with his tongue.

  “Anytime.”

  “Scott?”

  He looks up. His face is wet. Oh God. This is so the wrong time.

  “I love you.” Three little words. The power to move mountains. I swear my world gets brighter, bigger as I say them, and then he’s on top of me, sliding into me.

  “I love you, Ali. Fuck, that’s been a hard secret to keep.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He groans as he thrusts into me. It really is better like this. There’s a skin-on-skin drag that’s raw and right. “Nothing to be sorry for. If it wasn’t big and scary, it wouldn’t be real.”

  “It is real, right?”

  “Terrifyingly so.” He kisses me, tracing the seam of my lips with the tip of his tongue. He tastes like me and I probably still taste like him. I shiver. “You’re the one for me, Ali. This is as real as it gets, and I’m never letting you go.”

  I wrap my legs around him and rock my hips, bringing him deeper inside my belly. There’s a bright, aching stretch inside as his cock nudges my cervix, as he finds space inside my body. “Sometimes you’re gonna have to hold on tight.”

  “Like glue.”

  “I’m going to want to run away in a few months.”

  “Babe…” he kisses along my jaw and nips at my earlobe. “I can’t wait to run away with you.”

  My heart might just explode. “What?”

  He laces his fingers through mine and tugs my arms over my head, pinning me down. “I’m a bird on a wire, Ali. I’m ready to fly wherever you want to go.”

  Holding my gaze, he moves inside me, slow at first. Thick, drunk surges filled with love and promise. He ducks his head and finds my breasts, and I cry out as he pulls a nipple into his mouth. A tremor starts inside me, a slow, wobbling pleasure bubble that grows and flexes and shimmers in the heat he’s stoking between us. I arch my back as he grazes my flesh with his teeth and his cock pushes ruthlessly through my slick folds.

  “Come with me,” I plea. I can feel myself squeezing him, begging him for his come inside me. He shifts his hands, pinning me down with one. The other finds my leg and presses me up and open, so he can slam into me harder. Faster. Deeper.

  “Always.” He growls my name, his face hard and intense as he watches me, watching him. He’s on top of me, heavy and perfect, and this is all it takes, and I’m there.

  “Yes,” I cry out, and it’s exactly right.

  “Always,” he repeats as he holds himself inside me, the aftershocks ripping between us.

  BOOTY CALL

  part five

  NEW YORK, AGAIN

  —epilogue—

  FEBRUARY, AGAIN

  Alison

  “To the birthday girl,” Scott says, tipping his flute of prosecco against mine.

  I give him a beaming smile. “Thank you.”

  After a six month international relations internship in Sydney, we’re back in the States. I think we might head out to the west coast soon, because I’d like to do a masters degree in Asian Pacific politics, but that’s a worry for another day. Another month.

  This is our extended holiday. We had Christmas down under, and now we’ve been in New York for a month. We’re subletting an apartment in SoHo and I’m doing some observerships at the United Nations, but New York is too close to both of our families for our comfort zone. Well, there’s some debate over that.

  My boyfriend likes to point out that I spend hours a week on the phone with both of my sisters. I point out that international telecommunications make that possible, and any time I want to see them, I can get on a jet plane.

  But if we head out west, we’ll be close to his brother Will. And Taylor, if she’s still in Los Angeles by the time we settle. She’s a bit of a bird on a wire, too.

  I thought for sure she’d clash with Scott, because they’re similar in a lot of ways, but when we stopped in L.A. on our way to Sydney, they totally hit it off. He needs to teach Hailey how to get along with Tay.

  He was similarly afraid to introduce to me to Jeff. His brother is everything I hate about wealthy businessmen…but somehow he’s different. I like the guy. I don’t understand him, but I like him. It’s all in how he looks at Scott, like he’d lay down his life for his older brother.

  I know the feeling.

  “I love you,” I say, lacing my fingers into his. “Thank you for a magical birthday.”

  “It’s not over yet,” he says with a lazy, dirty grin.

  “No?”

  He winks. “I’ve got a surprise for you.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls a pair of tickets and hands them over.

  I squeal as I read the name of the show. “Broadway Burlesque?”

  “Surprisingly not on Broadway.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “Ohmygod. This is amazing.”

  “We’ve got an hour before it starts. Want to walk?”

  I tip my glass back and finish my wine. “Oh yeah.”

  We’ve done this every night that we’ve been in the city. Walked for blocks, hand-in-hand, and talked about…everything. Tonight we head down Prince Street. Scott tugs me to a stop in front of Agent Provocateur and whispers in my ear how turned on he was when I waved those panties in his face a year ago.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “I wanted to take you over my knee and spank you, though.”

  “Maybe we should do that tonight.” I lick my lips. “Turn my bottom pink. A belated punishment for teasing you.”

  “Punishment?” He crushes his mouth against mine and I tug on his hips. I want the full weight of him against me. I always want it all, no holding back. “Babe, I should thank you every single day for being so persistent.”

  “Then you’re welcome. Will you please spank me?”

  He laughs and squeezes my ass. “One hundred percent.”

  “Where do you want to walk tonight?” I ask him as we step off again.

  “There’s a garden up ahead I found last week,” he says. “Full of statues. It’s kind of cool.”

  I grin up at him. “Awesome.�
�

  We turn right at Elizabeth Street. It’s dark and quiet, although there’s traffic just a block away. The street lights glow, though, and up ahead I see a fence. “Is that it?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “This is it.”

  As we reach it, I realize the glow is coming from inside the garden, too. Hundreds of lanterns are hung from tree branches and perched beside the statues.

  “Wow,” I breathe.

  Scott wraps his arms around me from behind. “Happy birthday,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I fucked up the last one.”

  I shake my head. “All a part of our journey, babe.”

  He squeezes me tight, then takes my hand and leads me deeper into the garden. It’s positively magical.

  “I think this might be the best birthday I’ve ever had,” I whisper, turning in a slow circle. A fat, lazy snowflake drifts in front of me, and I look up at the sky. “It’s going to snow tonight, huh?”

  “We can stay in bed all day tomorrow,” Scott says from behind me. “Celebrating, I hope.”

  I turn around.

  He’s down on one knee, holding a ring in his hand.

  I don’t cry. Not unless my heart is broken.

  And apparently, when I’m proposed to. “What are you doing?”

  He grins at me. “Taking a really big risk, because I don’t want to fuck up another birthday.”

  I laugh weakly, swiping at my wet cheeks. “Okay.”

  “Ali, the last year has been the best of my life. You are the best in my life. The best late nights and early mornings. The best texts, the best jokes, the best serious conversations.” He looks up at the sky. “The best walks. The best adventures. I want to share all of that with you, for the rest of my life.”

  “Okay.”

  He reaches for me with his other hand and I stumble forward, squeezing my fingers around his. “Will you be wife? The mother of my children and the savior of my world?”

  “That’s a big ask,” I mumble through the tears.

  “The kids can wait a while if you want.”

  I shake my head. “That’s not the big ask. Of course I want to have your babies, you dork. Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, I’ll share my adventures with you. Yes, yes, yes. I need you by my side, always and forever.”