“May I?” I asked, reaching out to take over the job. I was desperate to touch it, to stroke the silken skin before it was sheathed.
“Be my guest.” He handed over the rubber circle and I shifted down the bed, sitting in front of him as I ran my hands down his length and back up again. He released an erotic hum as I continued to stroke him.
“You have a beautiful cock,” I murmured as I rolled the condom down, touching him way more than was necessary, but seriously, I couldn’t get over the size of it. “You should be very proud.”
“Thank you.” With a laugh, he climbed over me as I shifted back with him on the bed, our mouths finding the other’s as he pushed his tip into my entrance. “Breathe and relax,” he whispered, his hips moving back and forth in small increments as he slowly filled me, my body stretching to adapt. There was a slight burn initially as I took him in, quickly replaced by a mind-numbing pleasure when he began to slide in and out.
Who knew being this full would feel so damn good?
“Holy fucking hell,” I gasped as his thrusts quickened and he gripped at my arse. He swivelled his hips back and forth, deeper, deeper, hissing through his teeth while I was wide-eyed and set to explode. I was so incredibly full. Every part of me that could tingle was tingling, every part that could tighten was tightened. I was about to have the orgasm of the century, and I wanted it commemorated with a fucking T-shirt that read ‘I heart giant cocks’. I would wear it everywhere, proudly letting everyone know that I’d experienced one. They were fucking magnificent. Every girl should get one. Oh, I could be like Oprah, throwing out giant cocks for an audience of lucky women to try. They’d love me forever. Giant cocks for the win.
“Fuck, Holland, you’re squeezing the life out of me,” he hissed through his teeth, lifting my left leg as he increased his speed. I looked down between us, watching his shaft as it disappeared inside me, touching me deeper than any man had before. “I need to come.”
“Me too,” I gasped. “Hold on. Me too.”
With the strain evident on his face and in the veins in his neck, he clenched his jaw and thrust harder, faster. “Ohhhhhh.”
I tipped my head back and called out so loud my neighbours probably thought I was being murdered. But no, I was simply being shattered by the most powerful orgasm I’d ever experienced.
Ben caught my mouth with his, kissing me passionately as he stilled inside me, pulsing into my depths, that satisfied feeling of sated lust flowing between us. “Mmmm, that was…,” he started, grinning as he shook his head, words escaping him.
“I know,” I gasped, panting beneath him. “You’re good at this.”
He rolled off me, kissing the tip of my nose. “It takes two to make a spark, gorgeous. Where’s your bathroom?”
“Second door on the right.”
Pressing another kiss to my lips, he slid off the bed. “Be right back.”
Leaning up on my elbows, I watched the muscles in his arse pop with each step he took. I think I wanted to bite that arse too.
“It takes two to make a spark.” Did that mean he thought we had something? My mind delighted at the thought. Imagine getting to have that in my bed on a regular basis. I’d never wipe the smile off my face.
I didn’t want to get too excited, but I was still grinning to myself when he returned. “Something funny?” he asked, lying next to me on the bed and holding out a glass of water. He was so incredibly beautiful to look at. “Thought you might be thirsty.” Just as I reached out for it, he pulled it away. “On second thought….” He placed the glass on the bedside table.
“Hey!” My protest caught in my mouth when his sealed over mine and his arms went around my waist, pulling me against him. I felt my body react favourably, getting ready for him all over again.
“I don’t think we’ve worked up enough of a thirst yet. Ready for another round?”
“More than ready,” I returned, sliding my hands over his hard pecs as I stared up at him and tried to memorise every little detail of his face. There was no way I was going to forget this night in twenty years.
He kissed me again, deeper that time, his tongue becoming more familiar with the work my dentist had recently done. Then he pulled back all of a sudden and looked at me with a question in his eyes.
“What is it?” I asked.
“That sandwich you mentioned earlier.”
I frowned. “The ham and cheese toastie?”
He grinned. “Yeah. I really want one of those.”
Laughing, I wrapped my arms around his neck. Men were weird. “Right now?”
He looked at me like he thought I was mad. “No way. After. I haven’t finished fucking you senseless yet.”
“Sure. I’ll make you one for each orgasm you give,” I replied.
His brow lifted, and then his hand slid down and started working open the hooks on my corset. “In that case, I hope you have a lot of bread, because I don’t plan on letting you leave this bed until we’ve at least hit double digits.”
“Double digits?” My mouth gaped as the corset popped open and he flattened his tanned hand against my snow-white belly. His touch felt so good on my skin.
“Do you object?”
“Not at all,” I responded. “I was more concerned about having enough ingredients for the toasties.”
He pushed himself up so he was hovering over me. “Not enough ingredients for ten toasties? That’s it, I’m through.” He made as if he was about to get out of the bed, then buried his face in my neck and growled instead. “Forget the toasties. I’d prefer to eat you.”
I giggled as he slid down my body and started his feast. Oh, he had a magnificent tongue. We made it to six orgasms before my throat was so dry from all the gasping that I gulped down the glass of water while he removed his second condom.
“Sorry, I should’ve saved you some,” I said, holding up the empty glass upon his return.
He looked from me to the glass and back again.
Seeing him standing naked in my doorway was the last thing I remembered.
Chapter Three
Complete and Utter Fool
I woke in a rumpled bed to the sound of birds chirping outside. The sun streamed in through the windows, and my body throbbed pleasantly after the rigours of the previous night.
Wow. Ben is—I turned my head to the side to find a vacated pillow—gone.
I sat up straight, disappointment flooding my system as I looked around the room. “Ben?” I waited for a sound. Nothing. “Shit.” Even though I didn’t want to let myself, I’d still had high hopes for that one.
Twisting my way out of bed, I sat on the edge with the sheet wrapped around my naked frame. I had a pretty epic headache, wincing slightly as it pounded when I moved.
How much did I drink last night? Certainly not enough to warrant this kind of headache. All I could remember was orgasm after orgasm, then getting overwhelmingly tired. Did I pass out?
“Ow.” My brain felt like it was sliding with each movement. Placing my hands on the wall to steady myself, I shuffled into the bathroom in search of painkillers. When I opened the medicine cabinet, I found the note, folded and propped against the pack of ibuprofen. I’m sorry, it read on the outside. Then I opened it up to the words You’re amazing and I wish things were different. But this is who I am. B.
“Ugh.” I rolled my eyes and scrunched the note into a ball, dropping it into the toilet and flushing it away. What a bloody cop-out. I understood that it was just a hook-up. Sure, I wouldn’t have said no if he’d wanted to see me again, but I understood the nature of what we were doing. I didn’t need some lame ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ note after he crept out during the night while I was sleeping. “Arsehole.”
Downing two pills with water, I shuffled to the kitchen and took the bag of coffee beans out of the pantry. I needed it extra strong this morning. Once there was some caffeine in my system, I’d call Alesha and fill her in on the gory details of the previous night’s romp. She’d made me promis
e to tell her everything when I left with Ben. At least I had a really good story to tell. She’d never believe how good he was.
Unclipping the bag, I lifted it, ready to pour my beloved beans into the coffee machine. Except when I went to remove the grinder lid, there was no grinder lid at all. In fact, there was no grinder. Or a coffee maker.
What the fuck?
Suddenly wide awake, I looked around the kitchen. All my appliances were gone. “What?” I spun towards my living area—my empty living area. “No. No. Nooooo.”
This wasn’t OK. Where was my furniture? Where was my TV? My stereo? Where was every single thing I owned?
Holy hell.
I blinked twice and rubbed my eyes, hoping this was all some kind of hallucination. But it wasn’t. The room was still empty when I looked again. I’d been robbed. I’d been fucked into oblivion, and then I’d been fucked over, swindled, hustled, taken for a ride in every possible way. There was no way he’d done this on his own; there must’ve been at least one other guy waiting somewhere with a moving truck while I was unwittingly having the most expensive sex of my life.
It cost me almost everything I owned.
Moving across the apartment as if walking through a dream, I couldn’t believe this was happening. I checked the room I’d set up as my home office to find it was empty too. My computer, my desk, chair and bookcases, all gone. They’d even taken the books and my teaching manuals. Why? What was the point of that? The only room they’d left untouched was my bedroom.
Or had they?
Oh no.
In a sudden panic, I rushed into my room, flinging open my wardrobe to see that it had been completely ransacked. My clothes were still there, albeit on the floor, but my designer handbags, expensive shoes and the big wooden jewellery box that adorned my vanity were all gone.
“No!”
I dropped to my knees, my head falling into my hands as I burst into tears. It was gone. The only keepsake I had of my mother had been in that jewellery box, a mother-of-pearl hairpin that she’d worn on her wedding day. It was an antique—her something old. I was supposed to use it myself one day for that same purpose. Now it was gone, just like she was gone.
How can someone do this? What is wrong with him? I could never replace something like that hairpin. I was beyond devastated—I was destroyed.
Oh God. I needed to call the police. I needed to report this. I needed to give them Ben’s description so he couldn’t do this to some other poor unsuspecting woman. God, what a monster! Who fucked a woman and then robbed her, and how the hell did I sleep through it all?
It dawned on me almost immediately—the note was next to the painkillers, meaning he knew I’d wake up with a headache. He drugged me! But when? I searched my memory, the expression on his face when he saw me holding the empty glass telling me all I needed to know. The water. He drugged my water. Arsehole!
I should’ve known that a man like that would never be legitimately interested in me. How positively stupid could I be? Beautiful muscular men did not go for short round women. I was beyond stupid.
Growling at my own foolhardiness, I pulled on a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt, then marched back into my room to get my phone. It wasn’t where I normally hooked it up to charge, but then again, I’d discarded my handbag when I’d walked into the house the night before.
Oh shit. He’d taken the handbag. That meant he had my wallet and ID, the keys to my apartment, all my credit cards and my phone.
Nooooo.
Pulling on my runners, I rushed for the front door, ready to drive to the police station and report this in person. But when I grasped at air where my keys should’ve been, I knew beyond a doubt that my car was gone too. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuck!” I screamed, stamping my foot over and over as I hit the wall and cried. “Fuck!”
I dropped to the ground, my hands in my hair as I tried to decide what to do. My eyes burned. I’d fucked a thief, bedded a criminal. I’d been so enamoured by how beautiful he was that I didn’t for a second question his motives for wanting me; I simply thought I’d hit the jackpot.
I stretched my legs out in front of me and groaned.
What a complete and utter fool.
“He robbed me.” I stood on the front step of Alesha’s colonial-style home in the next suburb over. It had taken me nearly forty-five minutes to walk there, and in that time, I’d decided that I was going to hunt that son of a bitch with the big dick down and force him to give me my mother’s hairpin back. Everything else I couldn’t give a fuck about; I just wanted that piece of her returned.
“What?” Alesha knitted her brow, perplexed. “Who?”
She stepped aside and I practically charged for her couch, dropping my weight on it and moaning, “Furniture!” I already missed my overstuffed couch.
“What’s going on? Did you walk here?” She stood in front of me, her arms folded across her chest.
I nodded. “They took my car.”
“Who are they?” She perched on the edge of the couch as she regarded me.
“Ben and whoever helped him.”
“Big beautiful Ben from last night?” Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open.
“Yes. They took everything, Leesh. All I have left are my clothes and my bed. I don’t even have keys to get back in. Please tell me you still have the emergency set I gave you.”
“Of course I do. But I don’t understand. He took everything?”
“Yes. All my furniture, everything in my study, even my fucking coffee maker.”
“What? Who does that?”
I shook my head. “Arseholes do,” I murmured.
“He seemed so… hot,” she said in quiet shock.
“Well, hot guys can be criminals, it seems.”
“My God. I can’t believe this. Are you OK? Did he hurt you?”
I shook my head. “No. He drugged me.” My lower lip trembled, so I clamped my emotions down. I’d given that man all the tears he was going to get already.
“Did he… you know…?” Her brow knitted tight as she let the question hang in the air ominously.
“No. I was awake and willing during that part.”
“Oh. Thank God.” She sat for a moment with her hands tucked between her knees the quiet stretching before either of us spoke. “Was it at least good sex?”
I glanced at her and pressed my lips together, hating to admit it. “Amazing.”
“So, he went home with you, you had amazing sex, and then he drugged and robbed you?”
“That’s exactly what happened.”
“Whoa.”
“Whoa indeed.”
We sat quietly for a moment, letting the information sink in. I could tell she wanted more details but felt it was an inappropriate time to ask.
“Have you called the police?” she asked after a few beats.
I shook my head. “He took my phone.”
“He was thorough. Do you want to call them now?”
“I probably should.” She handed me hers, and I dialled, then waited for my call to connect. “He has my mother’s hairpin, Leesh.” My emotions threatened to spill over again, but I swallowed hard to keep them at bay.
“Oh no. Holland, I’m so sorry.” I hadn’t met Alesha until after my parents had passed away, but she understood how important that hairpin was to me. She was the first friend I’d made after I’d moved in with my aunt. We’d been through everything together. “Maybe we can get it back. We’ll go to all the pawn shops in the city in search of it. It has to turn up.”
“I think I’m going to find him and force him to tell me where it is. After that, I’m going to cut off his balls for being a scumbag.” And of course, that was the exact moment my call connected. Fuck my life.
“Malvern Police, Sergeant Stephen speaking.”
“Yes. I’d like to report a robbery.”
Chapter Four
Payment for Services Rendered
“We’ve come across this guy before. He preys on lonely women
, convinces them to take him home, then drugs and robs them.” The senior constable on the scene held his notebook in front of him, shaking his head in pity. Pity that was directed at me, the ‘lonely’ woman. Could I possibly feel any worse? “It’s been in the news.”
“It has?” I balked. I never was one to pay attention to the news. I preferred Netflix to reality, so I missed it. Ugh.
Alesha played with the gold cross at her neck, sliding it from side to side. “You say he drugs and robs them. Does he ever do anything else?” she asked in a small voice.
“Nothing has been reported.” The officer’s eyes shifted from hers to mine with concern. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Taking a deep breath, I shook my head. The fact he slept with me didn’t necessarily mean anything. Like me, the other women could’ve been keeping that detail to themselves out of embarrassment.
“They had sex,” Alesha squeaked, and I shot her a look that said shut up!
The officer’s brows shot halfway up his forehead. “Consensual?” he directed at me.
“Of course. I would be reporting a rape otherwise.”
“You’d be surprised by the number of women who don’t report sexual assault. He didn’t force himself on you at all?”
“No,” I insisted. “We met at a karaoke club, we talked, we came back here and… we had fun. It was consensual, and I was sober-ish the whole time. Everything was as it should be until I woke up to the empty house.”
“Did he use a condom?”
My cheeks flamed. “Of course! I’m not that stupid.” I felt genuinely offended that he’d ask such a thing.
“Do you remember what he did with that condom?”
“Threw it out when he went to the bathroom?” I shrugged because I honestly had no idea.
Using two fingers, he beckoned another officer over then asked them to check the rubbish in the bathroom.
Fool Me Twice Page 3
