Man Candy

by Melanie Harlow

  Instead I stalked Quinn online.

  Half a bottle of Bordeaux later, I was sneaking down the stairs with my wine glass in my hand. If I’m going to stalk him, I might as well do it right.

  His door wasn’t even locked.

  It was like he wanted me to come in!

  And besides, I wasn’t going to steal anything—well, maybe some undies—I was just curious. Quinn was never home before nine on Thursdays, and I’d be in and out of there in five minutes. Ten, tops.

  I don’t think I need to tell you, it didn’t exactly go as planned.

  Seven

  QUINN

  What the hell? Had I left my door open?

  I’d overslept this morning, and I’d heard we were going to get a ton of snow today, so I’d left in a rush, hoping to beat the bad weather. Maybe I’d neglected to pull the door all the way shut behind me.

  Taking off my boots, I set them on the hallway mat and glanced up the stairs toward Jaime’s apartment, but didn’t see or hear anything.

  Then I walked into my living room, and it hit me—the scent of her perfume.

  In my apartment.

  It was unmistakable, and by now, familiar. Sweet and fresh and floral. She smelled like a perfect spring day in the middle of winter, and it made me want her even more every time I smelled it lingering in the hall. But she was so stubborn, rushing past me every time I saw her, barely making eye contact, saying nothing more than hello and goodnight. If it weren’t for those telltale blushes, I might think she’d been telling the truth that first night, and she really wasn’t attracted to me at all. Just today, during my workout, I was thinking about trying again with her. For fuck’s sake, we weren’t kids anymore. Did we have to play games? Life was too short not to go for what you wanted, and I wanted her.

  Had she been in here today?

  I closed the door behind me, set down my bag, and walked back toward my bedroom. That’s when I realized I could still smell her. Then I heard a noise coming from my room and walked into it just in time to hear a small sound of girlish terror and see the closet door being pulled halfway shut from the inside.

  What the fuck was she doing in my closet?

  And was that a half-empty wine glass on my nightstand? Had she snuck in here to snoop around, thinking I’d be at class? All classes had been canceled for the rest of the night because of the weather, so I was home early.

  For a moment, I just stood there, trying to decide if I was flattered or irritated. I settled on mostly entertained, especially seeing as she was fucking trapped now.

  (I know I said I was over the games, but this was just too good.)

  What’s the best way to play this?

  She’d gone to all this trouble, so I should give her a good show, right?

  Suddenly I had an idea, and it made me want to laugh so hard I had to back out of the room. In the hallway, I composed myself and then re-entered the room, making more noise this time. A hiccup and little thump against the closet door told me I was right about her location.

  Suppressing the urge to just throw open the door and expose her drunk, snooping ass, I walked right by her into the bathroom, unzipped my pants, and drained the lizard for her listening pleasure. I grinned as I imagined the horrified look on her face.

  Then I flushed, washed my hands, and started the next act.

  “So. How about a hot shower, gorgeous?” I said loudly.

  She hiccupped again. Then I heard some rustling around in there, and I was nervous she was going to expose herself to me before I had a chance to expose myself to her—and I mean full exposure. I wasn’t shy in the least.

  I whipped off my Henley and spoke again. “Yeah, I think getting hot, naked, and wet right now sounds like a good plan for a cold afternoon.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the top of her head start to poke out of the closet, and I tossed my shirt her way.

  She came out even farther.

  “Fuck, this is gonna feel good,” I said. Then I pulled off my T-shirt and flung it in her direction, delighted when it appeared to hit her in the face.

  She darted backward into the closet like a mouse.

  I smiled. Come on out and play, little mouse.

  And she did—just in time to see me preening and posing in the mirror, flexing my muscles, stretching my limbs. I kissed each bicep just for show before sliding a hand down the front of my pants. My dick wasn’t hard, and I didn’t necessarily want it to get that way—yet—so instead of touching myself, I moved behind the bathroom door to get ready for the grand finale, wondering if she’d use the opportunity to escape. Betting she wouldn’t.

  I pulled off my jeans and tossed them out. Next, I yanked off my socks, but I left those on the bathroom floor. Finally, I took off my underwear and flung them out, dying to know if she was still there.

  I covered my junk with both hands and kicked the door all the way open.

  There she was. On her hands and knees—I knew I could get her there—mouth open, eyes wide.

  She gasped.

  “So,” I said, barely able to contain my delight. “Now what?”

  Her eyes raked over me from head to toe. She licked her lips. “Umf,” she said.

  “Use your words, sweet pea. What are you doing in my bedroom?”

  She scrambled to her feet, which were bare. Her toenails were painted candy apple red, which was also the color of her cheeks. She wore black yoga pants that clung to her scrumptious legs and a long-sleeved, charcoal gray sweatshirt that hung off one bare shoulder and said NAMAST’AY IN BED on the front.

  “Uh, sorry,” she mumbled, fiddling with her braid. “I was looking—I thought I heard—nothing.” She dropped her hands and exhaled. “Forget it. I’ll leave.” She backed up a couple steps, but I saw the way she couldn’t take her eyes off my hands.

  “Why are you leaving? Too chicken to stay?”

  Her head snapped up, and she gave me a surprised look. “Chicken?”

  “Well, yeah. You came down here to see something, didn’t you?”

  Her mouth fell open. Fuck, those lips. That chin. I wanted to do such bad things to her pretty face… My dick started to swell behind my hands.

  “See something?” she repeated.

  “Yes. Isn’t that why you were spying on me from my closet?”

  She puffed out her chest in outrage. “I wasn’t trying to spy on you!”

  “Oh no?”

  “No. I was just—curious.”

  “Curious. I see. And does this satisfy your curiosity?” I stood tall and gave her my best selfie smolder, the one she hated.

  She parked her hands on her hips. “OK. I’ll play this game. No, my curiosity is not satisfied. I can see that much of you any time I want. All I have to do is get online.”

  “Hmm.” I pretended to be vexed by that. “You’re right. So now what?”

  “Turn around,” she said imperiously, like a queen ordering her jester to amuse her.

  I cocked a brow at her. Then I turned to the side, which I really feel is the best angle for my butt. “How’s that?”

  She tipped her head to one side and studied me critically. “It’s OK. But I’m gonna need more.”

  “More?”

  “More.” She twirled a finger in the air. “Could you turn to the back please?”

  I faced away from her, feet apart, and took the opportunity to grin while she couldn’t see my expression. “How’s that? Better?” When she didn’t answer, I looked back over one shoulder.

  Her lower lip was caught between her teeth, and if I’m not mistaken, she was swaying a little, almost like she was woozy. Then she snapped out of it. “It’s a pretty good ass. I’ll give you that.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But I’m still curious.”

  “Oh no. Now it’s my turn.”

  She looked surprised. “Your turn?”

  “I’m curious too. Take off your shirt.”

  She laughed. “Not happening, my friend. You had your cha
nce to see my bits and pieces. You turned me down.”

  “That was ten years ago.”

  “That was ten days ago in my kitchen, and you know it. I dangled no-strings sex, and you didn’t take the bait.”

  “Maybe I don’t want no-strings sex.”

  “Maybe I don’t want you to see me naked.”

  “Chicken.”

  She gave me a dirty look. Then she grabbed her sweatshirt by the hem and whipped it over her head.

  Oh, fuck.

  I turned around and stared.

  Her tits were just as perfect as I remembered them in that red bikini—maybe even more perfect. A little bigger, a little rounder, with mouth-watering caramel-colored nipples that begged to be tasted.

  “And?” she said, sticking her hands on her hips again. “Satisfied?”

  I swallowed hard. My eyes had to be bulging out of my head, and my dick was threatening to bust through my hands like a racehorse out of the gate. Her body was luscious, and I wanted to explore every curve and crevice.

  Hell no, I wasn’t satisfied. “Now your pants.”

  She gave me a look that said I can’t even with you. “Really? My pants? You don’t want to fuck me, but I have to take off my pants?”

  “I never said I didn’t want to fuck you.”

  She pretended to think, tapping her lips. “Hmmm. I guess it was implied when you walked out of my apartment without even kissing me.”

  “If you win the game, you can name your prize.”

  “Ha!” She threw her head back and laughed. Her throat was pale and slender and made me think of more bad things I could do to her. “You think I’ll want to have sex with you as a prize? I’ll play your little game, Quinn Ryder. I’m no chicken. But the size of your ego is staggering.”

  “That’s not the only thing.”

  Another dirty look.

  While she tugged off her pants, I took the opportunity to adjust myself, but the harder I got, the more difficult it was to conceal my dick with my hands.

  “There.” She straightened up and threw her pants aside.

  My breath caught. She wore tight little shorts that sat low on her voluptuous hips, leopard print edged in black lace.

  In my head, a lion roared.

  “So,” she said, her eyes full of mischief. “Now what?”

  Eight

  JAIME

  He looked at me like he wanted to tear me apart. But he spoke calmly.

  “Come closer.”

  I hesitated, then sauntered toward him. I had no idea what we were doing—he was so fucking unpredictable, it drove me nuts—but I was game for where this seemed to be heading.

  He didn’t need to know that, though.

  I wanted him to suffer a little for the way he’d teased me. If he wanted me the way it appeared he did, why the hell hadn’t he acted like it before?

  Men. So annoying.

  Was it any wonder I didn’t want to deal with one on a daily basis?

  “Here I am.” We faced each other—a standoff. In my bare feet, my head was level with his chest. He had pert nipples the color of wine. My favorite color. “Shall we see who draws first?”

  “Pretty sure I have the only weapon in this contest.”

  “So let’s see it, big talker.” I cocked my head. “Or are you chicken?”

  He smiled—and dropped his hands.

  I looked down—and gasped.

  I couldn’t help it. There it was, right in front of me, the Dick that Got Away. And it was big and hard and thick. It was one of those pretty ones, too, know what I mean? One of those tall, symmetrical ones planted in a manscaped yard? Figured that Quinn would have a perfect dick. It was probably magical too.

  I was dying to play with it.

  Lick it like a Popsicle. Suck it like a peppermint. Ride it like a pony.

  But I wouldn’t let on.

  I met his eyes again, kept my cool. “Impressive.”

  “Thank you. Your turn.”

  I tapped my cheek with one finger. “Well, now, hold on. I have to think about this. If I don’t drop my panties, you win. I think I need to know what’s at stake here.”

  “Meaning?”

  “What’s your prize going to be?” I thought for sure he’d say something like a blowjob or butt stuff, so I was shocked when he answered in an entirely different way.

  “A date with you.”

  I dropped my arms. “A what with me?”

  “You heard me. If I win, you have to go out with me—and no sex on the first date.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  He smiled. “Nope.”

  For fuck’s sake, this was ridiculous. He had a massive erection right now! Why did he want to date me? Couldn’t we just fuck like two normal adults without feelings? He was making this way too complicated.

  I shoved my underwear down, kicked them off, and stood up. “I win,” I announced.

  “I don’t know about that,” he said, but his eyes were drinking me in, and his cock was jumping between us. “I think I’d call this a draw.”

  “So what do we do?” My breath was coming faster. Between the nearness of his naked body, the smell of his skin, and the way he was looking at me, I was about to lose control. Was this on or not?

  He moved closer to me, so close my nipples grazed his chest, which sent bolts of pure lust straight between my legs. Moving my braid aside, he lowered his mouth to my shoulder and brushed it softly up the side of my neck. “What do you want for your prize?” he whispered in my ear.

  I shivered. “You know what I want.”

  “Well then, maybe we can come to some sort of agreement…” His eyes flicked to the bed. “On this bargaining table here.”

  Oh, it was on.

  I licked my lips and caressed the tip of his cock with my fingertips. “I’d like to open negotiations.”

  “Fuck.” He grabbed me and threw me onto the bed, pinning my wrists over my head. His hips anchored mine, his erection trapped between us. “I can’t think if you touch me like that.”

  I wrapped my legs around him, my heart pounding. “Thinking is overrated. What do you say we just feel our way through this?”

  He crushed his lips to mine.

  Finally. Fucking finally.

  Ten years I’d waited for this kiss—and by the way, hell yes, it was worth the wait.

  With my arms restrained above my head, I couldn’t get my hands on him like I’d been wanting to, but I used my legs to pull him closer and lifted my hips against his. He kissed me hard and deep, his tongue stroking mine, his scruff rubbing against my chin.

  As the kiss deepened, I felt my desire for him surging through my body like a hurricane, gathering force and speed and intensity. He moved over me, rolling his hips so his cock rubbed against me in just the right way. Bucking up beneath him, my body begged for more.

  His mouth traveled down my neck to my chest, and I arched my back, anxious to feel his lips on my skin. My nipples tingled and hardened, and I cried out when he sucked on one, then the other, taking the tight little peak between his teeth and biting lightly.

  “Yes,” I breathed. “Fuck yes. Bite me.”

  He groaned, swirling his tongue around the tip before closing his teeth around it once more and flicking it with his tongue. It felt so fucking good—that simultaneous sting of pain and flutter of pleasure, plus his cock rubbing against my clit—I could have come inside a minute.

  I like sex fast and hard and focused on the finish—no lazy lovemaking. For me, the best part about sex is the aggression of it. The chase, the climb, the race for the prize.

  I loved feeling like I couldn’t wait to tear the clothes off a man and let our basest urges take over. It turned me on when a man wanted me so badly he turned almost violent with it, like an animal. Sometimes it made me want to tame him—take control and boss him all the way to the finish when I was ready (and I hadn’t had any complaints so far…most guys are happy to come sooner rather than later). Other times, I enjoyed
being ravaged and letting them go all alpha male on me. Either way, it was more about the act itself and the roles we played than the person—I didn’t date that much and even when I did, somehow the best sex was never with those guys, anyway. Sexual chemistry was always better with men I kept at a personal distance.

  But speaking of sexual chemistry.

  I was burning up for Quinn Rusek, about to combust.

  “Quinn,” I panted. “I want you inside me. Now.”

  He pinched the nipple that wasn’t caught between his teeth, making me gasp. “And do you think,” he said, dragging his scruffy jaw down my belly, “you deserve to get your prize so quickly? After you behaved so badly today?” He clucked his tongue. “I don’t think so, sweet pea. Turn over.”

  My pulse raced. “What?”

  “You heard me.” But instead of waiting for me to do it, he flipped me over himself and caught my legs between his knees.

  “What is this? I thought we were negotiating.”

  “We’ll get to that. But there’s the little matter of your misdeed to deal with first.” His hands covered my ass, kneading gently. “Are you sorry,” he went on, his voice smooth and dripping with patience, “for sneaking into my apartment to spy on me?”

  “I told you, I wasn’t trying to spy, I was—fuck!”

  He’d spanked me so hard my eyes watered, then held his hand over the stinging flesh.

  “Are you sorry?” he asked again.

  I gritted my teeth. “No.”

  Crack! The sound of his hand smacking my other ass cheek was as thrilling as the sting of it, and I loved the heat of his palm afterward.

  “You are a very bad girl, even worse than I thought. Not only deceitful, but”—smack!—“fucking unrepentant as well.” Smack!

  My ass was on fire.

  He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head up, leaning forward to speak low in my ear. “You are downright sinful.”