Big Girls Do It Boxed Set

by Jasinda Wilder

  At least, that's how it felt to me.

  When we broke apart, Chase pulled a business card from his back pocket, which already had his address scribbled on it in neat, blocky capital letters. No phone number, or email address, just his physical house address.

  "I'm going home," Chase said. "If you want to know what I was going to do to you, come over after your set. If you don't, you'll never see or hear from me again. It's up to you."

  I took the card in trembling fingers. "Chase...I..."

  He kissed me again to cut me off. "It's up to you, Anna. If you're too afraid, I'll understand. Just remember, you never know what's possible until you risk finding out."

  And then he was gone, roaring away on a sleek black Ducati motorcycle.

  * * *

  I stood on the sidewalk in front of Chase's house. It was a modest one-story ranch-style home, a square of grass in front, a detached garage, cracked driveway and a tasteful lamppost in front. The front porch light was on, despite the fact that it was past 3am.

  I forced my feet to leave the sidewalk and take the steps up to the front door. My finger hesitated on the doorbell, and then, with closed eyes and a hammering heart, I pushed it.

  Chase was at the door within seconds, still in his leather pants but without his shirt.

  Holy hell. I'd felt the muscles of his stomach, had seen his biceps, but nothing could prepare me for the sight that greeted me through the storm door. Pure male perfection, cut muscles, defined with artistic clarity, dusky skin taut and hairless, inked across the pectorals and biceps with stunning full-color red dragon wrapping entirely around his torso, writhing with every breath, every shifting of his muscles.

  I froze, unable to tear my eyes away. Chase opened the door, took me by the hand, and pulled me in. He'd meant for me to move past him, but I ended pressed against his hot skin and bulky muscles, hands slipping and sliding across his broad shoulders and ridged back, up his sides and to his chest.

  "Why am I here?" I breathed.

  Chase grinned down at me. "Can't you guess?" He pulled me into the house, closing the front door with his foot.

  I shook my head. "Nope. I'm a terrible guesser." I pressed my lips to his shoulder blade, and then his neck. "Are we here for pretzels? I am a little drunk."

  "You don't seem drunk," Chase said. His hands were resting on my hips, letting me kiss his skin.

  "Not drunk, then. Tipsy. Enough to wonder if this is real."

  "It's real. I hope." He dragged his fingers through my hair, wrapping his fist into it near the nape of my neck. He tilted my head backward so I was looking up at him, lips parted in anticipation of his kiss.

  "Why would you hope it's real?" I said. My mouth was running away from my brain again, and I couldn't stop truth from spilling out. "I'm the one who must be dreaming."

  He kissed me, and it wasn't quite the kiss he'd given me in the parking lot a few hours ago, but it was close.

  "Your lips don't feel like a dream." He ran his strong hands across my mini-skirted backside. "Your ass doesn't feel like a dream. It feels real enough to me."

  "Are you sure? There's an awful lot of fabric in the way," I said.

  "True. We should fix that." Chase's fingers explored the skirt until he found the zipper, tugged it down, slipped his hands between the skirt and my skin to push it down.

  His hands on my bare skin felt like tongues of fire along my flesh. I couldn't help a moan from escaping my lips. Chase buried his nose against my neck at the sound, digging his fingers into the flesh of my ass. I was wearing a thong, a bit of blue fabric across my vag with a few strings around my hips and down my asscrack. He traced the line of the strings, dipping down between the globes of my butt to cup each cheek, then up to my stomach.

  "Lift your arms up," he said.

  I complied without thinking. He was commanding me, and I normally hated being ordered around, but the gentle promise in his voice had me raising my hands over my head. He drew my shirt over my head, leaving me standing in the middle of his living room clad in only a matching bra and panties. Chase stepped back away from me.

  "God, you're beautiful," he said, just loud enough for me to hear.

  "Wow," I said. "You're good. You almost sound as if you believe it."

  Chase tilted his head, looking honestly confused. "Of course I believe it. Would I lie to you?"

  "I don't know. I've know you for a week."

  "True," Chase said, grinning as he inched back toward me. "Then you'll just have to believe me. I would never lie to you. I promise."

  "Okay, sure. Now kiss me again."

  "I want to look at you first." Chase stopped just out of arm's reach. "You're a goddess."

  I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, right." I planted my hand on my hip and put my weight on one leg, posing for him even as my mouth betrayed me. "I'm an elephant. Nice try, though."

  Chase went from gazing appreciatively to gripping my arms in anger within the space of an eyeblink. "Why the fuck would you say that? You're beautiful. You're perfect. I wouldn't change a thing about you."

  "You're hurting my arms," I said. "And it's true. You're sweet to try to flatter me, but I know what I look like."

  Chase loosened his grip, but didn't let go. His eyes bored into mine. "Never, ever say that about yourself again, Anna. You. Are. Beautiful." He stepped into me, and now his skin was brushing against mine, the leather of his pants rough against my hips, his bulge hard and thick against my stomach. "I know you won't believe me if I say, so I'll just have to show you."

  Smart man. He could tell me I was beautiful till the cows come home, or till I went home, rather, but as much as I'd enjoy hearing him say, I knew I wouldn't believe it, not deep down. I'd heard the opposite for too long from too many different people, the very ones who should have been saying what Chase was saying now.

  He took me by the hands and led me down a short, narrow hallway to the master bedroom, a simple, tasteful space, light and airy and masculine, neat and smelling of candles.

  He'd lit candles. The man had lit candles. A dozen of them, all around his room, on his dresser and on the trunk at the foot of his bed. I melted. The walls around my heart cracked, although the pragmatic core of me stayed on the defensive, knowing better than to let me think the four-letter word that rhymes with "glove" and is impossible between a guy like Chase and girl like me. He'd fall for a woman as perfect as him, someone who was worthy of his beauty. Not me.

  "Why are you doing this for me?" The words were choked from my lips.

  Chase kept pulling me in, towards the bed, wide and neatly-made, covered with a simple comforter and a few pillows. "Because I like you. Because I want you. Because you deserve it."

  "No I don't. Not with you."

  "Why not?" He stopped pulling and stood holding my hands.

  I couldn't meet his gaze, kept my head down and stared at his bare feet. "Because I'm..." I drew a deep breath and forced the words past quivering lips. "Because I'm...big."

  Three little letters, but they contained so much fear, so much revulsion and self-loathing and history and pain. Nothing had ever, ever in my life been so hard as to speak those three little letters.

  Chase's fingers clenched mine, and his eyes went from fiery with lust to wavering with sudden understanding and something awfully like compassion. The compassion was the hardest to see, stabbing through my pragmatic self-defensive walls around my heart.

  "Big?" His voice was incredulous. "You think I couldn't want this with you, just because you're not a size zero. Unbelievable."

  He kissed my shoulder, the right one, on the round curve where my arm began.

  "You're perfect the way you are, Anna. You're a work of art." He kissed my chest, just above my left breast. "Don't ever, ever change. Don't ever let anyone tell you you're anything less than a glorious, beautiful goddess."

  "Shut up, Chase." I was resorting to toughness in a desperate attempt to keep the burning in my eyes away. "You're full of shit."

  "L
ook at me, Anna." His voice was gentle, but firm. He touched my chin and forced me to obey. His eyes were burning with the fiery lust once more. "Listen to me."

  "No. Just shut up and fuck me already." I looked away, watched a candle flicker.

  "I don't want to fuck you, Anna. I want more to do so much more than that."

  "Don't mess with me, Chase. This is supposed to be easy. I know what this is. It's sex. One night of hot monkey sex, and then you go back to your life. You marry a sexy little skinny bitch and you have kids and get it on in all sorts of positions I could never do."

  "You don't know what this is, if that's what you think. And if you think I want that for my life, then you don't know shit about me."

  The tone in his voice pulled my eyes up to his once more. "I don't even know your last name," I said.

  "Delany." He reached around my back and unhooked my bra with one dexterous hand.

  He brushed the shoulder straps off and the bra fell into his waiting hand. He set it aside and gazed at my breasts.

  "Chase Delany," I whispered, as he leaned in towards me.

  "That's me. And what's your last name, sweetness?" He put his lips on my chest, an inch beneath my throat, and I instinctively arched my back into his hot, wet mouth.

  "Devine."

  He stopped at looked up at me. "Seriously? Your name is Anna Devine?" His mouth returned to my flesh, and this time his lips found the rising mound of my breast. "You really are a goddess, then, Anna Devine."

  "I'm...I'm not. I'm—"

  He straightened and his gaze nearly knocked me over in its intensity. "Say it." He took one my tits in his hand, hefting the significant weight of my thirty-eight triple D breast, then the other, running the pad of his thumb across my taut nipples. "Say it, Anna Devine. Say, 'I'm a goddess.'"

  I met his gaze, steady and hard, and pressed my lips together.

  His eyes twinkled. "You'll say it. You'll say it before I'm through with you."

  He knelt down in front of me, staring up at me through the mountains of my breasts, his hands around my waist to rest on the swell of my ass. His fingers curled through the strings of my thong and he drew it down over my hips, dragging it slowly, never taking his eyes off me.

  Oh Lord, I thought, as he brought the panties down past my knees. He is not...no...he can't be serious...oh sweet Jesus, he is.

  His tongue ran up my inner thigh to the hollow where my hip met my leg. My muscles twitched and my breath caught. He kissed my belly, low, just above the mound of my core. He was still gazing up at me, even as his tongue dipped down to run up the other side of my thigh, brushing just past my labia once more.

  "What are you doing?" I put my hands in his hair, meaning to tug him up.

  "Worshipping a goddess."

  He smiled at me, then pushed at my thigh with gentle, insistent fingers. My stance widened on its own, my legs spreading apart to give him access. Every fiber of my being was screaming YES YES YES PLEASE! but my fears and insecurities were whispering that this would all be snatched away at the last second.

  If it was, then I'd enjoy it while it lasted, I told my fears, and they were silenced.

  Well, his tongue silenced me, if I'm being honest. His nimble, probing, licking tongue, swiping up between my lower lips, a wet heat against my most sensitive area. I couldn't even gasp, then. He pressed his mouth to my opening and his tongue flicked in, darting against my clit, a single tender brush, but it was enough to make my legs buckle. I forced myself upright, not wanting to fall down on top of Chase and crush him. That would be bad. It would end the first—and probably last—time any man had ever put his mouth anywhere near me like this.

  His arms went back up and circled my waist, supporting me. I put my hands on his thick shoulders and threw my head back as his tongue went back in, and this time stayed in. He licked in slow, lazy, wide circles around the cluster of nerves, sending shockwaves through my body. I moaned. I couldn't help it, not with his tongue drawing from my trembling loins an ecstasy I'd never knew existed.

  The slow circles narrowed and sped up, and the shockwaves narrowed in waveform, rolling over me until I was dipping my knees at each pulse of his tongue against my flesh, pressing my mound in his rough stubble, his powerful arms supporting me.

  I cried out, a rasping whimper, and went limp. He caught me, lifted me, actually factually lifted me clear off the ground and onto the bed before I could catch my breath. And then, before the world stopped spinning, he was back into me, holding my legs apart, resting my knees on his shoulders and spearing his tongue into me, relentless, merciless.

  The shockwaves were so close together now they were indecipherable from each other, a single cresting, crashing tidal wave. The tsunami broke and I came with a shriek, my inner muscles clenching as pure, sinful pleasure washed through me in a flood.

  He didn't relent with my cry, though. He kept licking and spearing, putting two fingers inside me and curling up to find my G-spot. Light exploded behind my eyes as explosions rocked my body, one after another, a thrilling detonation for every swipe of tongue against my damp nub, a billowing concussion for every caress of his fingers against the rough patch of skin deep inside my walls.

  I curled in, knees tight, fingers tangled in his hair and pulling him against me as I came and came and came, and still he didn't give in. I had to make him stop so I could catch my breath, so I could let my muscles release.

  "I've...I've never had so many orgasms...before," I said.

  "You haven't even started to come for me," Chase said, nipping the darkened skin of my areola with his teeth.

  "No, I mean I've never had so many orgasms before, ever. Combined, in all my life." I couldn't stop my fingers from tangling in his hair again as he took my nipple in his mouth. "At least, not that weren't self-induced."

  "Then we'll have to make sure you lose count," he said, around a mouthful of breast.

  I ran my hands down his back, marveling at the cords of muscle bunching as he moved. I'd found my breath, and now my own lust was starting to boil. I wanted to feel him, needed to see him nude before me. I'd seen him earlier, but that was with his pants still on. I needed them off, needed to see him in all his glory. The button and zipper were undone in a single jerking motion. I pushed him off me, off the bed.

  He let me push him, stood up and waited as I tugged the pants down. They were tight and didn't want to cooperate, but I got them off without help, and then he was standing in front of me in just a tiny bit of black fabric stretched tight across his waist. He was huge in his boxers, and I licked my lips at the memory of him in my mouth.

  Just another taste.

  "You can taste me all you want," Chase said, and I realized I'd spoken aloud.

  I moved toward him, lying horizontally on my stomach across the bed. My hands went around his waist and dug underneath the elastic to touch his hips, pushed the boxers down and I was gripped his muscular ass with both hands. The waistband caught on his engorged tip, and I had to pull the fabric away to get them down around his thighs. His shaft was standing at attention, bobbing against his stomach as he breathed. He was naked, then, and I could only stare.

  "God, you are so gorgeous," I said.

  And oh my god, was he ever. Eight-pack abs, broad pectoral muscles and thick arms, a perfect V leading down to his manhood, which was, in a word, perfect. His legs were like tree trunks, his ass a wonderland of muscle and flesh, his hair a sweep of black inky strands, his face a symmetrical sculpture of angles and planes, hard and masculine. And his eyes, deep, dark brown, almost black, glittering orbs of expression.

  I took in his beauty, drinking him in as I couldn't ever get enough. But, inevitably, my gaze was drawn back down, which was just begging to be touched, held, kissed. I reached for him, took his handle in both fists and let myself just explore his length with my fingers and palms.

  He closed his eyes as I touched him, moving his hips in imperceptible rolls. I watched as the little hole at the tip began to leak clear flui
d under ministrations. I couldn't stop my tongue from licking out, didn't try to.

  He took my face in his hands. "I take it back. No more tasting. I can't take it, not without exploding all over you."

  "What if I want you to?" I drew him toward me by his erection. "What if I want you to come all over me? Is that what you want? To come on my face? On my tits?"

  I moved my hands on him in an increasing rhythm as his hips began to buck. His eyes flew open and he took my wrists in his hands.

  "No." He forced my hands away from his throbbing hard-on and drew me against his chest, pressing his lips to me. "I don't want that. Not yet, anyway. I want to be inside you."

  He pushed me down, and I let him guide me to the head of the bed. His weight was on top of me suddenly, his heat radiating into my skin, our bodies pressed together in delicious points of contact. His knees forced my thighs apart and he was poised to spear into me, but he hesitated once more.

  "Chase, please," I heard myself say. I wanted him inside me. I didn't care if I had to beg to get it.

  "First things first." He leaned over to the bedside table and opened a drawer, pulled out a string of condoms and ripped one free.

  I touched his arm. "I'm on the pill and I'm clean."

  He froze. "I'm clean too, but even the pill isn't—"

  "I'm not worried."

  He still hesitated, and I took his hips in my hands, pulled him toward me. He resisted.

  "I trust you," I said. "Just take me."

  I didn't tell him what my doctor had told me: I was highly infertile and would likely never conceive. Bruce and I had discovered this together. Bruce, my ex-husband. The other thing I wasn't telling Chase yet. I didn't tell him this, but I thought it. I wondered how he would react, then comforted myself with the knowledge that I'd likely never have to find out.

  Chase's lips found mine, covering my mouth with his and claiming a kiss that shook me down to my toes. His hand caressed my breast, his palm brushing my nipple, sending lightning thrills through me, and I rocked my hips into his. He finally gave me what I wanted: his lovely, perfect, glistening, turgid, incredible erection deep inside me, stroking slow and gentle and careful.