Butt Ending: A Big Stick Novel 2 (Standalone)

by R. C. Stephens

  When the song ends, I’m out of breath and thirsty. I lean forward to get off the bar, but Oli holds his arms out. “Jump.”

  I lean forward and fall into his waiting arms. He catches me so that I’m flush to his body. My breasts press firmly against his rock-hard chest. His arms secure me around my waist. Our faces are leveled, our heavy breaths mingling, and our mouths so near it hurts. A low growl escapes his lips, feral and wanting. I know in that instant that he’s going to kiss me, and I’m too weak to stop him—no, it’s not even that. I don’t want to stop him. I want him to kiss the air right out of me, and that’s what he does as our lips crush together, warm and hungry, taking and giving. He tastes like tequila as his lips press hard against mine, holding me with one hand around my waist while his other moves up my back to my neck where he cups my head. He’s kissing me breathless and yet I have never felt this alive, this turned on from a kiss before. It can’t be just the alcohol—it’s him. This giant of a man whom with his big, giving heart, claims me, and lord knows, I don’t want it to end. I let out a little moan as he growls into my mouth, “you taste so damn good.”

  And that’s when I return down to earth and remember we are in the middle of a crowded bar.

  Recognition seems to strike for him too as he releases me slowly. The lustful, heady feeling continues to wash over me. Some people whistle and holler around us, like we’ve put on a good show. Someone in the background shouts, “Get a room,” but it sounds friendly. Even in my drunk state, I know I’m a disheveled mess as I run my fingers through my hair to flatten it out since Oli did a number on it, raking his fingers through my hair as we kissed. We both settle back on the stools, flushed and breathing heavy while silently staring at each other. The heat in his eyes can’t be missed as he watches me, maybe waiting for me to say something, but I swear I feel like he’s kissed me stupid again.

  He pulls out his phone. It’s after midnight. “We should head back,” he says.

  “Yes,” I agree. I flip my sweater on and my jacket, while Oli settles our bill. He loops his arm around my waist like it’s meant to be there, only I tell myself he’s doing it because I am unsteady on my feet and he doesn’t want me to fall. We head outside to the brisk early spring air, but as fresh as it is out here, it doesn’t sober me up. I’m still drunk on him.

  We begin to walk when Oli pauses mid-step and looks to me with wide eyes. At the same time, we both shout, “Chance!”

  We turn around and rush back to the pub.

  “OMG, we are very bad parents,” I practically cry, out of breath as we sprint back to the pub.

  “My sister would kill me if we left him.” Oli chuckles.

  Inside the pub, I head directly for the waitress, knowing full well that I’m slurring my words as I ask her to bring me Chance. She lifts a phone and calls Skip, I assume. He says to send me on back.

  Oli gives me a glare, which tells me he doesn’t want me going by myself. “I’m coming with you,” he insists. There is no room for argument. I’ve seen him get this way with his sister.

  “I’m fine,” I say, sloppily.

  He places his hand on my hip and urges me forward to lead the way, saying, “I wasn’t asking.”

  When we reach Skip’s office door, I knock. Skip smiles at me, but doesn’t pay much attention to Oli. Chance charges toward me and jumps up to my chest, trying to lick my face. He almost pushes me over, but Oli has his hand wrapped around me protectively, almost like he’s claiming me.

  I notice Skip’s jaw pulse. I shouldn’t really care. I mean, I told him earlier Oli was just a friend, and now Oli has gone caveman on me.

  “Thanks so much for doing this. You have a great place here.” I smile but my words are unclear as I hear them leave my mouth. I sense Skips knows I’m drunk.

  “Thanks.” Skip grins and pats Chance on the head. “Him and Charlie got along really well. I noticed he isn’t neutered. He was humping her when I left to use the restroom earlier. If there’ll be any grandbabies, can I let you know?” He smirks playfully.

  I fluster at his comment. I would feel bad if Chance knocked Charlie up. “Of course, yes, please, let me know. You shouldn’t have to fit all the cost yourself,” I say, a little taken back and feeling bad. It’s weird, but maybe I’m just not used to consuming so much alcohol.

  Skip laughs and reaches for a pen on his desk.

  Just as I’m about to recite my cell number, Oli cuts in, and says, “He’s my sister’s dog. If you have any trouble, you can call me.” His voice sounds deep and assertive, and a part of me wants to break down in laughter that he is acting this way over some harmless flirting that would lead nowhere, since Skip and me live in different cities and Skip isn’t the man of my dreams. Oli goes on to recite his phone number, and Skip looks like he’s forcing himself to write it down.

  “Charlie had some beautiful pups about two years ago. Couldn’t keep them. Gave them to my family members. Not sure what I’d do this time.” Skip scratches the scruff on his chin.

  “Anything happens, just give me a call,” Oli repeats, but a little more friendly this time. “And thank you for taking him in.”

  “Yes, thank you so much for everything.” I smile although my lips feel a little numb, and I wonder if I’ve made any sense at all.

  Oli hooks Chance up on his leash and takes my hand, leading me back toward the front of the pub. We walk back to the inn, and all I can say in my head is shit, fuck, fuckity-fuck. What if he wants to sleep with me? I would totally sleep with him. Fuck, I want to sleep with him so bad, and the fact that I’m numb would probably make it better because it wouldn’t hurt, but would I need to tell him I’m a virgin? Is that something he needs to know?

  We make it back to the inn and trudge up three flights of stairs. When we reach the door, my heart is beating a mile a minute. Not because we climbed the stairs, but because I can picture him fucking me. Jeez, the thought sends me into a tailspin.

  Eight

  Oli

  The walk back to the inn has sobered me up slightly, which is a good thing, because back at the bar I had one thought on my mind: Take Sloane to bed. My sister’s best friend, Sloane. That would’ve been a major fuck-up, if things went south after sex. Truth is, even if I didn’t feel the warmth of the alcohol coursing through my veins, I would still want her, need her, actually.

  I don’t know what’s come over me. I feel addicted to this woman. To her quirky personality, to her caring heart, to the way she seems to get things on a deeper level, and to her relationship with food. Those foodgasms she gets are hot.

  As I try to convince myself to keep my hands to myself, Sloane fumbles around the room, throwing her jacket to the floor. She falls on the bed and begins to pull off the boots she’s wearing. She cusses as she tries to pull them off, and I smile in the dark room because she’s adorable.

  I need to get my head on straight. I give myself a little shake to clear it.

  She pulls her socks off and whips them at the wall. She clearly doesn’t handle her alcohol well. Then again, she’s my sister’s best friend, and Flynn is no party animal.

  Sloane fights to remove her sweater and falls back on the bed in a fit of laughter. Chance hops on the bed and licks her face.

  “Heck no. We have to set ground rules,” she says, glaring at him. “Dogs sleep on the floor. Besides, you already got some tonight, and I’m nobody’s sloppy seconds,” she says, followed by a burst of laughter. I begin to crack up too. That was damn funny.

  “You should definitely not be anyone’s sloppy seconds,” I confirm, and the minute I do, her laughter stops and she sits back up, pushing Chance off the bed. He concedes easily and finds a spot on the floor. Her eyes land on me and I sense the need in them. Her heated glare tells me she wants me as badly as I want her.

  With her eyes trained on me, she begins to remove that sexy tank top she’s wearing. I want to tell her to stop but I’m just not strong enough, and so I let her make a show of removing it slowly. Besides, I’m
dying to see her in lingerie. Her breathing quickens as she gazes at me with lust-filled eyes. My gaze drops to her chest, and fuck me, she’s wearing a lace bra. It’s white, which gives me a nice visual of her pert nipples. My dick swells. I lick my lips as I stalk toward her, ready to claim every inch of her body when Chance lets out a tiny whimper. It’s so small I barely hear it, but it reminds me to take a step back, and I do.

  “Why did you stop?” She frowns with a lazy, drunk look in her eyes.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” I respond, clenching my jaw because my dick is hating those words.

  “Why not?” she asks so innocently, her full lips turned down in a sexy pout.

  “You know why,” I answer, not wanting to get into logistics with a topless Sloane in front of me.

  She stands up from the bed and walks past me, placing each hand on her hips and giving me a nice view of her breasts. “Do you not find me attractive?” she asks, and even though she’s sulking, she’s very much a seductress.

  “You’re fucking beautiful. It’s taking everything in me right now to do the right thing,” I say, gritting my jaw.

  “Well, maybe you shouldn’t do the right thing.” She cocks a brow and moves slowly, shaking her hips from side to side as she removes her skin-tight leggings.

  “Fuck,” I grit my jaw hating my next words. “You shouldn’t be stripping,” I say gruffly, wondering if those words really left my mouth. I’m high on Sloane. She’s wearing a pair of white lace panties and she looks stunning. Even in the dark, I can see her pussy is bare. My dick throbs in my pants as I wonder how wet she is and how much she wants this.

  “I think I should,” she says, and her speech slurs. She’s fucking drunk. This shouldn’t be happening. She takes a few seductive steps, closing the space between us. My breath quickens as I think how good she’ll taste on my tongue.

  “Sloane,” I warn.

  “Oliver,” she replies, and I hate when people call me Oliver, but my name from her luscious lips sounds like a caress.

  I wait to leave the ball in her court. She runs her hands over my shoulders and down my arms while biting on her plump lower lip. When her hands reach the hem of my sweater, she lifts it up and over my head revealing my chest. Her green eyes twinkle, and as she runs her hands over my abs and up my pectorals, it takes everything in me not to cup her head and claim those lips.

  Just as I think that thought, she reaches up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine. I already know there’s nothing sweeter than her and so when her lips touch mine I lose control and wrap my arms around her waist bringing her tight little body flush with mine. The kiss is hungry and fast as she rakes her hands wildly through my hair. I have one hand wrapped around her waist while the other wraps around her thigh. Lifting her up in the air, I kiss her senseless while walking us over to the bed. I lay her down gently and hover above her while I pepper kisses down her nape, farther down to her chest. As one hand rolls over her nipples, I return my attention to her mouth, licking the seam of her lips slowly. She moans, and I move my hand to the other breast and play with her hardened nipple. Needing to see all of her, I reach behind her back. She gives me access to unclasp her bra. The minute her bra comes off, my lips are on her breast. I’m like a hungry animal as I lick her nipple back and forth. She presses herself against me, and I know she can feel how hard I am for her. How badly I want to sink into her heat.

  “Oli,” she moans.

  “You like that, baby?” I ask, then move my attention to her other breast. I look up briefly to see she’s nodding, and it makes me smile, watching this pure, sensuous woman enjoying my touch. Everything feels so different with her. When I’m with the bunnies, it’s nothing special. They like to fuck and often. There’s a hot-and-heavy routine with a lot of “fuck me” and “oh yeahs,” but it’s gotten old now. Something about being intimate with Sloane, knowing that she wants me when she doesn’t date much at all has me undone. In the decade I’ve known her, I don’t think she’s had a serious boyfriend, and she doesn’t seem to be the type to sleep around. That means something special. She wouldn’t just give herself to anyone, and tonight she’s chosen me. As I move down her belly, she moans some more and continues to rake her fingers through my hair.

  “Oli, please,” she begs.

  “What is it you want?” I ask, wanting to hear those sexy words falling from those full lips.

  “I can’t say it,” she responds, but even though she won’t say it, her body does. I sink a finger into her panties and play with her clit.

  “Oh,” she groans as her hips begin to move. I use my finger to spread her juices over her and I insert my finger, pumping it while the thumb on my other hand plays with her clit.

  “Fuck, you feel so tight,” I groan. I want inside her now, but I need to make this good for her and for some reason, I want this to last all night. I don’t want it to be a quick fuck.

  “Yes, oh my. I’m going to come if you continue that,” she warns breathlessly.

  I move to lower her panties. “I’d rather get a taste of you first,” I say, and her eyes widen a little and she tenses around my finger.

  “Um, you don’t have to do that,” she says, lifting her head. As light from the moon and streetlamps pour in through the window, I notice how flushed she is, how hot and horny she looks just for me, and my dick pulsates in my pants. I’m completely undone by this girl and very surprised, because I do not have this kind of reaction ever and I’ve been with my share of women.

  “I want to. Just relax and enjoy.” I move up her body and place a gentle kiss on her lips, coaxing her to lie back down, then I move back down her body, placing a kiss on each of her nipples before moving to her pussy. I separate her folds and the minute my tongue brushes against her wet folds, she cusses. It’s so damn cute. I want to ask her if anyone has gone down on her before because I like the idea of being a first, but I also don’t want to make her uncomfortable. I begin to lick her slowly, flicking her nub then running my tongue along her seam. She doesn’t stop moaning and her hips move in rhythm with my tongue. It’s so wild and sexy.

  “I’m going to come,” she breathes heavily. I figured as much, because she is so swollen she should detonate any second. I lick faster and suck her nub as she calls out, bucking her hips.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s too much. It’s too good. Don’t stop, oh, oh, oh.”

  She detonates like fireworks on the fourth of July, cussing and bucking, her body wild. Her breasts bounce with the rhythm. She makes me want to blow my load.

  “You’re so fucking sweet.” I smile as I slow things down, and she comes down from her high.

  She opens her eyes, and they look glazed over, glossy, and she has a lazy smile on her face. “That was . . .” She falls silent, and I get worried, but then she says, “. . . perfect.”

  I reach up and claim her lips. The kiss grows heated fast. She swipes her tongue along my lips and runs her hands down my back as our tongues play and dance. I wait for her to pop the button on my jeans, but it doesn’t happen, and I figure she’s shy, so I go ahead and pop the button, then slowly use one hand to shrug my jeans off. I keep my boxers on, thinking I shouldn’t get ahead of myself and assume she wants to sleep with me because she isn’t a bunny. I’ve had a line of willing girls at my service since I was like sixteen. I never had to work for anything with a woman or even wonder if a night would lead to sex. It just did. With only my boxers on, I can feel her slowing the kiss down, and I follow her lead because I’m out of my element.

  “What’s up?” I whisper into her mouth.

  “I need to say something . . . Maybe I don’t . . . It’s not really a big deal . . .” she continues, and yes, I am totally freaked out. What is she talking about? I clearly know she doesn’t have a dick.

  “What is it?” I ask, followed by a big gulp.

  She squeezes her eyes shut.

  “Sloane?” I ask, but my nerves are rising.

  “I’m . . .” she begins. I wonder what she�
��s going to say. Maybe she’s gay? But she wanted me tonight, so that’s not it. Maybe she’s bi, which is cool with me. I’ve been with two chicks at once.

  “Say it, Sloane. Trust me, there isn’t much I haven’t seen,” I urge.

  She covers her face with her hands and I stay lifted on my elbows gazing at her, but I can’t read her thoughts. “Oh lord,” she says, and I wonder if she’s praying or something. Maybe she prays before sex because her father is a pastor.

  “Okay, you’re officially freaking me out. Just say what’s on your mind. Honestly, it’s cool,” I say softly.

  She removes her hand from one eye and opens it slightly, then mutters, “M a vrgn.”

  “What?” I ask, because I did not understand a word.

  She removes her hand completely and stares at me, flushed, round-eyed, and oh-so beautiful. “I’m a virgin, Oli.”

  I’m not sure what happens next. My world tilts sideways, or maybe it’s a case of vertigo, but I somehow fall sideways, ending up on the floor and banging my head. That wakes Chance, who charges up to me and sniffs my ass. I shove him away. Sloane pops up on her knees and leans over the bed.

  “Are you okay?” she asks with a worried tone. I sit up quickly, get to my feet, and back myself up. Only my motions are a little too fast, because I smash into the wall behind me, hitting the back of my head this time.

  “Shit,” I say, holding my head.

  Sloane walks toward me with a concerned look. She wants to check me or something, only I pick up my hand and say, “Stop.”

  I need a moment to gather my thoughts and breathe, basically. I just licked her pussy, and it was the sweetest pussy I ever tasted, but she’s a pastor’s daughter, a virgin. I can’t do this. This is fucking way out of my league. This is too much responsibility. She wants a relationship and I won’t commit.