Moon Shot

by Tara Wyatt

  * * *

  Aerin: That makes no sense.

  * * *

  Javi: I don’t want to date you, Aerin.

  * * *

  Aerin: Ouch.

  * * *

  Javi: I just want to fuck you. Over and over again.

  * * *

  Aerin: Oh. Well, then. Maybe we can talk about that.

  * * *

  Javi: I can’t stop thinking about you. About how good we are together. Admit it. You think about it too.

  * * *

  Aerin: I admit nothing. But…Tell me what you think about.

  * * *

  Javi: I think about your gorgeous, tight pussy. How incredible you feel. How fucking good you taste. I think about how beautiful you look with your lips wrapped around my cock. How much you like when I take control.

  * * *

  Aerin: I might think about you too. Maybe.

  * * *

  Javi: Oh yeah? What do you think about when I’m on your mind?

  * * *

  Aerin: Everything. All of it. Your mouth. Your hands. That ridiculously perfect cock. How I shouldn’t want you the way I do.

  * * *

  Javi: God, the things I want to do to you.

  * * *

  Aerin: Tell me.

  * * *

  Javi: I want to tie you up and eat your pussy until you beg me to stop. Spank you so hard I can see my handprint on your perfect ass. Bury my fingers inside you and feel you flood my hand. Rip your clothes off and fuck you against a wall. Fuck your mouth and come all over your tongue. I want to spend every waking second with my cock inside you. I’m going crazy. It’s all I think about.

  * * *

  Aerin: 1747 Leonard st, PH3 Come over. Now.

  * * *

  Javi: I have press in ten. Be over ASAP.

  Aerin set her phone down with shaky hands, her face and chest flushed, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest. Her stomach dipped and swirled over and over again as she re-read the texts, unable to stop her eyes from devouring them again and again. Arousal pounded through her, and she knew her panties were already slippery with wanting him. Oh, God, this was a terrible idea, wasn’t it? Hadn’t she just been thinking about liking him too much and needing to preserve her sanity and…

  And yet her entire body felt electric with the knowledge that he was on his way over soon to fulfill those filthy promises. Electric and alive and so, so needy. She’d never craved a man the way she craved him. The way she ached for him and obsessed over him was almost like a sickness. An addiction she knew better than to indulge but was powerless to resist. And while she knew that that was probably the most dangerous thing, she couldn’t turn off the incessant wanting. She’d been trying and failing for weeks now.

  But at least she wasn’t alone in whatever this was between them. At least there was that.

  Glancing down, she took in her peach colored sweater and light blue jeans. She’d worked from home today and while what she was wearing was cute and pretty, it wasn’t exactly booty call material. Stepping into her spacious bedroom, she whipped the sweater off over her head and shimmied out of her jeans, anticipation thrumming through her. Taking off her bra and panties, she stepped into the walk-in closet naked, rifling through the racks of clothes until she found exactly what she was looking for: a sheer black cocktail dress that barely covered her ass.

  She pulled it off the hanger and held it up in front of her. Normally, she wore a form-fitting black slip underneath it, but today…she smiled and then worked the sheer material down over her naked body. Turning, she inspected herself in the mirror, tugging at the fabric. She was covered, the long sleeves enveloping her arms, the dress encasing her from shoulder to thigh. But even though she was dressed, her entire body was visible. Her nipples scraped against the fabric, already hard and aching.

  Unable to help herself, she curled her fingers around the hem and edged the fabric up, savoring the slide of it over her skin, lifting it until it was bunched around her waist. With a slow, deliberate movement, she cupped herself and then teased her lips apart with two fingers. She inhaled a sharp breath. She knew she’d find herself wet, but she wasn’t prepared for the flood between her legs.

  Of all the men in the world, why did it have to be Javi who did this to her? Javi, who clearly had some pretty heavy shit to deal with in his personal life. Javi, who was too sexy, too charismatic, too smart to resist. She knew without a moment’s hesitation that he could destroy her if she let him. A part of her had always known it, known that she was far too drawn to him for her own good, and so she’d set about pushing him away from the moment she’d met him.

  “This has to be the last time,” she whispered to herself in the mirror. “The absolute last time.”

  She closed her eyes and exhaled, then rearranged her dress, tugging it back into place. Then she headed into the bathroom and found the almost full box of condoms, breathing a sigh of relief when she checked the expiry date. She tossed them on the bed and then spritzed on some perfume, brushed her hair, touched up her light makeup.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, but was probably more like forty-five minutes, her building’s doorman called up.

  “There’s a Mr. Flores here to see you, Ms. Stone.”

  Aerin smiled, a hot flush working its way over her skin, her hands trembling with adrenaline and need. “Send him up. Thanks, Mike.” A hurricane spun and swirled in her stomach as she moved toward her door, every single nerve ending standing at attention. Waiting for the sound of his knock.

  When it came—three short raps on the door—a rushing hum invaded her ears, her entire body buzzing with anticipation. She licked her lips, tucked her hair behind her ear and then opened the door.

  Javi stood there, leaning casually against the door frame, his navy blue T-shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders, a cocky smirk on his face. His dark brown eyes landed on her, devouring her, the smirk fading into something hungry. Something wolfish.

  Something that made her feel like the most delicious kind of prey.

  “Fuck,” he ground out, licking his lips.

  She smiled, feminine confidence flowing through her.

  He rubbed a hand over his mouth, his eyes dark and hungry. “Did you wear this for me?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

  She had, but she didn’t want to admit that to him. Admitting it would’ve made her far too vulnerable, and Aerin didn’t do vulnerable. Especially not with stupidly sexy baseball managers who she should stay away from.

  “No, this is my usual loungewear,” she said, her heart pounding in her throat as she stared at him. “I call it horny chic.”

  He smiled, dimples flashing, and then pushed off of the wall and stepped inside, the door closing behind him. A silence, heavy with lust and need, hung between them. With several sure, slow steps, he backed her against the wall, not stopping until the length of his body pressed against hers. Not even waiting for an invitation because he knew that she wasn’t going to say no. Not after she’d ordered him to come over.

  “What did you mean when you said there could be an us without there really being an us?” she asked, her voice a little raspy.

  With agonizing slowness, he cupped her face, his thumbs grazing over her cheekbones. There was a tenderness in the contact that she wasn’t sure she was wholly comfortable with, but then he dipped his head and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, nipping at her.

  “I don’t think either of us is looking for anything long term or serious. Am I wrong?” He pulled back a little, his eyes searching her face.

  She shook her head. “You’re not wrong.”

  “I also think that we have chemistry. Physical chemistry. A lot of it.”

  “Two for two, Flores.”

  He bent and sucked on the spot just under her ear, beside her jaw. She let out a shuddery moan, tilting her head, wanting more. But he pulled away again.

  “I think we should keep doing this.”

  She pu
shed her hands up under his T-shirt, tracing her fingers over the hard ridges of his stomach, needing to touch him. To feel him, to assure herself this was real. His skin was so warm, so smooth. “Just sex?”

  “Just sex.”

  She shook her head slowly, teasing her fingers under the waistband of his jeans. “I don’t know.”

  “What don’t you know?” He dropped a hand from her face and trailed his knuckles over her nipple. She arched into his touch, sucking in a sharp breath. “This—when we fuck—it’s too good to give up. So let’s keep doing it. No strings. No expectations. Just this,” he said, his hand skimming down from her aching breast to her waist, her hips and then between her legs. Without warning, he parted her and easily slid a finger inside her.

  Her legs shook and she let out a loud moan. He added a second finger and started to fuck her slowly, his thumb brushing over her swollen clit.

  “Tell me you don’t want this, too,” he said, tugging her earlobe between his teeth. “Tell me this isn’t the best goddamn sex you’ve ever had.”

  “Oh, God, Javi,” she breathed, clinging to his shoulders as her hips writhed. “Why is it so good with you?”

  He took his hand away and she whimpered, but before she could mourn the loss for more than a second, he gripped her chin and kissed her, hard and deep. A bruising, claiming, possessive kiss that made her feel as though her insides were turning into lava.

  “Because there are no expectations. No strings. We can each take what we need without fear or guilt or any of that shit.” He licked into her mouth again, his tongue tangling with hers. She moaned into his mouth and rolled her hips against him, earning a gruff moan in return.

  “For how long?” she finally managed to ask.

  He shrugged and then lowered his head, licking her hard nipple through the sheer fabric. “Until we’re done.”

  She wove her hands into his hair as he sucked her nipple into his mouth, the barrier of the fabric making it that much hotter. “Until it’s out of our systems,” she managed to pant out.

  “Exactly.” He bit at her breast and then turned his attention to her other nipple. Her spine bowed off of the wall, his mouth on her like an electrical current.

  There were so many reasons why what he was suggesting was a bad idea. There had to be, right? But with his talented mouth on her, her pussy wet and aching for him, she couldn’t seem to think of any. In that moment, what he was suggesting made perfect sense.

  “Okay. Yes.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, he slid his fingers inside her again. “Oh, shit,” she ground out, working her hips against him. He’d been here for less than five minutes and she was already more than halfway to orgasm. With his mouth licking and sucking and biting at her nipples and his fingers working her over, it wouldn’t take her much longer to get there.

  This was bad. Really, really bad. But she was weak and didn’t have the willpower to pull away. To say no. To save herself.

  He kissed a path up her neck and then finally took her mouth again in a deep kiss. “God, Aerin. You do something crazy to me. You make me want to fuck and fuck and fuck,” he growled, punctuating his words with hard thrusts of his fingers inside her clenching pussy. His thumb worked her clit and her orgasm exploded through her, hot, pulsing throbs that made it hard to see, hard to breathe, hard to think. All she could do was feel, ride the waves of pleasure crashing through her, making her shake and moan and clutch at the man responsible for it all. He slipped his fingers free but continued stroking and playing with her, avoiding her clit in what was both a reprieve and a tease.

  Reaching between them, she slid her hand over the massive bulge in his jeans, her entire body softening and melting and burning at the thought of having him inside her again. His hips jerked forward and she gave him a hard squeeze.

  “Inside me. Now.”

  He pulled a condom from his back pocket as she worked his belt, their mouths crashing together in hungry, needy kisses. How was it that she’d just come and it wasn’t nearly enough?

  Would it ever be enough with him?

  And even scarier…could she survive this with her heart intact?

  The vague idea of slowing down flickered through her brain, but then Javi sheathed himself in the condom, wrapped her leg around his hips and pushed the thick head of his cock inside her.

  She made a strangled, sobbing sound. “God, it’s so good.” It was half-complaint, half-praise. He smiled at her, that sexy, cocky quirk of his mouth that made her want to strangle him and kiss him.

  “So fucking good, baby. I can’t get enough. Shit.” With one hand around her waist, the other hooked under her leg, he worked himself inside her, taking another inch with each thrust until he was buried to the hilt. Tipping her head forward, she kissed him, a slow, deep kiss, needing more of him even though he was deep inside her. Stretching her and filling her to the point where she thought she might break. It was pleasure on the brink of pain, all the sharper for its proximity.

  It was sheer perfection.

  As he established a hard, deep rhythm, she wondered how she’d ever thought that this could be the last time. How she’d ever thought that she’d be able to say no to more of this. She’d been deluding herself.

  Protecting herself.

  Fear threatened to intrude, so she pushed it away, curling her fingers around his hard bicep and angling her hips so that each slide of his cock in and out of her brushed against her pulsing clit.

  Breaking the kiss, he pulled out of her, and with sure, quick movements, spun her around and bent her over the small console table by the front door. She braced herself against the cool wood as he slid back inside her, filling her almost to the point of pain. Hitting every single nerve ending she had and making them sing and scream and beg for more. The scent of freesia from the bouquet in the glass vase on the table invaded her nose, tangling with her other senses. The sound of her moans and Javi’s soft grunts, the heavy breathing, skin against skin. Her tilted view of the room from her bent over position. It was all so debauched.

  It was all so them.

  She pushed back to meet his thrusts, losing herself to the pleasure building inside her, the slick, throbbing heat between her legs, the rushing of blood in her ears.

  And then.

  Then.

  His palm landed on her ass with a resounding crack. A stinging pain flared out across her skin, but then after a few seconds, it melted into something hot and delicious. Something that made her clit twitch and pulse and her pussy ripple around his cock.

  Javi let out a low growl and bent over her, his husky voice rasping in her ear. “You like that, don’t you? You like being spanked. Being marked.”

  “Yes,” she gasped out, shocked that it was completely true. He smoothed his palm over her stinging cheek and then landed a hard smack on the opposite cheek. “Fuck!” she screamed, slamming her hips back to meet him.

  “Gonna make you come again. Get on the floor,” he ordered, sliding out of her. She still couldn’t believe how much she liked being told what do to, but there was an immensely appealing freedom to it. This was the only part of her life where she didn’t have to have everything under control, where she didn’t have to have all the answers.

  She practically crumpled to the floor, the tile cool on her back through the sheer dress she was still wearing. Javi knelt before her, a wolfish grin on his sexy face. He gripped the undersides of her thighs and pushed her legs open and back, leaving her completely spread for him.

  He licked up and down her slit and then kissed her pussy, a deep, slow kiss that had her vision fading in and out. She clawed at the tile floor, her head thrashing back and forth as she chanted his name over and over again, hovering on the brink of oblivion. She’d barely had time to enjoy his lips and his tongue on her before she came, her hips bucking, her legs shaking. It was almost unfair how quickly her orgasm barreled down on her. Only the knowledge that this wouldn’t be the last time kept her from tumbling into despair. She shook and sho
ok as he kissed her greedily. Sweat coated her, making the dress cling to her skin.

  Before she’d fully come down, Javi rose up over her body, kissed her and then urged her onto her stomach. Strong hands on her hips pulled her up onto her hands and knees. He worked his way back inside her, fighting his way in through the renewed tightness of her orgasm. The pressure, the heightened sensitivity only made it feel that much more intense. The fabric of his jeans brushed against her thighs, and she heard the clank of his open belt against the floor, reminding her that he was still almost entirely dressed. Once he was all the way back in, his balls nestled against her, he let out a deep groan.

  “You should see your ass right now. So fucking pretty with my handprints on it. Fuck.” His last curse game out low and guttural and he pounded into her, so hard she was sure she felt him in her stomach, in her chest. So hard she’d be feeling him for days. He bent over her as he fucked her, biting at her neck, her shoulder. “You won’t be able to sit without thinking of me. Without thinking of how fucking good it feels to let me ruin your pussy, over and over again.”

  “Javi!” She practically screamed his name as another orgasm burned through her, brought on almost entirely by his words. By the idea of being marked and ruined by him. By all kinds of dirty, glorious things she shouldn’t be thinking about him.

  His thrusts faltered and with a shout, she felt him come, his cock pulsing inside her. The sudden silence in the apartment was nearly deafening. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, he shifted behind her.