by Kylie Scott
A xx
Fingers dug into my hair and his mouth covered mine, hot and hungry. There was no going slow. We were a car crash, a catastrophe. His tongue in my mouth and my hands pushing at his coat, tearing at his T-shirt. One large hand slid down over my spine, grabbing my ass and kneading, while the other cradled the back of my head.
Whiskers from his beard tickled the end of my nose and I pulled back, sneezing.
"Sorry," I mumbled.
"You all right?" he asked, eyes darker than I'd ever seen them.
I nodded. "Mmhmm."
And we went right back to it, lips mashed together, my tongue sliding over his teeth. For a moment his hands left me then his coat hit the floor. What a brilliant idea.
"Get it off," I demanded, pushing up his shirt. He ripped it off over his head while I went to work on his belt buckle. What a team effort. The bulge beneath his jeans looked so damn tempting, it made my mouth water. I slid my hand over it, pressing against the hard length of him, stroking him with my palm.
"Fuck," he said, covering my hand with his own, making me work him harder.
His other hand covered the front of my neck as if he were gently collaring me, thumb grazing my skin. Again and again, he pressed his lips to my mouth. Such sweet kisses, I couldn't get enough of them. I chased his mouth, trying to keep contact for longer. The asshole just smiled.
Butterflies didn't cover it. There were pterodactyls inside my stomach, swooping and screeching and flying around. Not even they, however, could compete with the throbbing ache in my pussy.
"We need less clothes," I said, voice shaking. Damn it.
"Yeah."
With one final kiss he let me go and the race was on. He tore open the button on my pants, wrenched down the zip. All the while my blood beat hard, pushing us to go faster, to get him into me quicker. It required more balance than I possessed to toe off my shoes. I clung to his thick shoulders before I hit the floor. Once he had my pants undone and down to my knees, he threw me onto the bed.
I shit you not.
Those big hands gripped my hips and I went flying through the air, landing on my ass with the happily soft mattress bouncing me around. My eyes must have been like twin moons. I'd never been a small, fragile creature; however, people didn't normally just throw me around. Apparently he was in an even greater rush than I.
Off came my pants; he sent them sailing before starting in on his own. Then from his back pocket he produced a condom and threw it onto the bed beside me. We were ready.
"You still with me?" he asked, standing at the end of the bed in forest-green boxer briefs with one hell of a hard-on pointing right at me. "Alex?"
"Y-yes."
A nod.
"Come here," I urged him on, beckoning him closer with my greedy hands.
He climbed onto the bed, situating himself between my spread legs. Much, much better. Our mouths got back together, and it was like they'd never been apart. Wet, feverish kisses. Hot hands slid over my skin, undoing the clasp on the back of my bra. And all the while he rocked against me, rubbing his length along the lips of my sex, making my eyes roll back into my head. God, it felt so good.
Just to be safe, I wrapped my legs around him good and tight. It wouldn't do to let him get away now.
If it weren't for the underwear we were still wearing, everything would be close to perfect. I was so swollen and wet, and we'd barely even gotten started. My bra disappeared, care of his clever hands, and his warm mouth trailed over my chest. The beard was weird. It was sort of soft, not scratchy, yet still made for a bizarre contrast to his smooth lips.
Foil crinkled and he drew back onto his knees, pushing down his boxers and taking his cock in hand. Now, this I needed to see. Thick, long, hard, perfect. He rolled on the condom, not taking his eyes off me for a moment.
"Pretty," he said, trailing his fingers down the middle of my chest, between my breasts, stopping at my panties. "But these need to go."
And so they did.
The heat of his big body covered me, his eyes staring deep into mine. Then the broad head of his cock eased between my labia, pushing slowly but insistently into me, stretching me. All the while, he kept staring at my face like he was trying to memorize it or something.
This was not casual. Nothing about this felt casual.
The thought, no, the knowledge, sent panic rising up inside me. Except Joe's hips were pressing into mine, his body angled just right to put the loveliest pressure on my clit. The thrill of it eclipsed all else. Immediately he started pulling back, drawing the thick length of his cock out of me. Every nerve ending inside of me sung, pleasure racing through my veins. When he pushed back in again, it was a little faster, a bit rougher. And he kept that up until the bed's headboard started shaking.
It felt fucking awesome.
I wrapped my legs around him once more and tilted my hips, taking him deeper. Again and again he thrust into me, and every time it only got better. Sweat covered our skin and the sound of our heavy breathing filled the room. More hair escaped his ponytail, sticking to his face. This man was so beautiful. Also, what he could do with his dick was fucking magical.
Fingers buried in my hair, keeping me right where he wanted me. The man had me mesmerized. I couldn't have looked away from him if I'd tried.
My legs shook, every muscle drawing tighter and tighter as the fire inside me grew. Apparently my heart had been replaced, because my pussy and clit were throbbing like they were the new center of my world. The feel of him burying himself deep, time and again, was the most perfect sensation. From the top of my head to my toes curled tight, nothing else mattered except him and me and this exquisite heat growing between us.
When he reached down between us, sliding his thumb around and over my clit, I exploded. Boom. Total whiteout. My breath caught in my throat and my body drew tight. Wave after wave of aftershocks rushed through me. Joe's hand curled tight in my hair and he ground himself against me, hips bucking. His hot breath warmed my neck as he buried his face.
Done. We were both totally done. Dead even.
I was a quivering wet mess barely able to breathe. Yet still those wonderful little ripples spread through me, the muscles in my pussy still weakly trying to seize him, keep him inside. Who could blame them? Joe, the man formerly known as just my friend, was some kind of fucking sex god. It was all too much. Suddenly I needed some space.
"Excuse me." I pushed at his hot, sweaty, oversize body. "Joe?"
Immediately, he got off me, lying at my side. Even his softening cock sliding out of my sex felt right.
"Hey, you all right?" he asked, hand drifting over my hip.
"Yeah, I just, I need a minute." I climbed off the mattress and headed straight for the bathroom, locking the door.
Bright lights blinded me, making dots dance across my field of vision. The cold tile floor and cool air-conditioning made my skin goose-pimple, my nipples harden even more. Hell, the girl in the mirror looked like shit. I mean, well fucked, but still. Swollen lips and messy hair, red marks from his fingers everywhere. It was the look in her eyes, though, that tipped me too far and I burst into tears.
*
Polite knocking came not too long after.
"Alex, you okay?" he asked, voice subdued.
"Yes," I lied, turning on the cold tap and splashing my blotchy hot face. Ugh, my eyes were a mess, all red and puffy. Charming. I'd totally do me again if I were Joe.
"So that wasn't you who ran from the bed and locked herself in the bathroom to cry?"
Smartass. I didn't bother to answer. Instead, I brushed out my hair and took a few good deep breaths. Put on the hotel robe hanging on the back of the door and tried to pull my shit together. It helped a little. But I still really didn't want to go out there and face him. Maybe I could give myself a facial, it would burn some time. Eventually, the man would have to get bored and leave. Surely. Then this whole embarrassing episode could be dealt with another day. Or never. Never would be fine.
&nb
sp; "Way I see it, you have two choices," he said, obviously standing close to the door. "One. You can come out here and talk to me. Or two. I can go down to the truck, grab my tools, and break the lock or just break this whole damn door. Your call."
"Asshole," I whispered.
"I can hear you."
With a sigh, I gave in and opened the door.
The condom was gone, but otherwise he remained unchanged. Damn, he looked good.
"Hey," he said.
"Hi."
"Did I hurt you?" Concern creased his brow.
"No. No, you didn't. Nothing like that. I like rough, I just..." Shit. I had no words. "Sorry."
He shrugged. "Sometimes women cry after sex. It's not a big deal. Just a release of stress or something."
Hmm. Maybe.
Gently, he reached out, taking my hand. Behind him the bed was trashed, blankets and sheets a mess. Also, the room smelled of sex. Typical me to turn something so good into a big heap of bad.
"Tell me what you're thinking," he said, slowly swinging our hands between us like we were children.
"That I have this talent for ruining things."
"You didn't ruin anything." He shook his head. "Nearly gave me a fucking heart attack. But you didn't ruin anything."
"Oh good. That's good." I should probably go easy on the sarcasm. Someday. "I don't normally cry. That doesn't usually happen."
His gaze softened. "What normally happens?"
"I get dressed, say 'it was nice to meet you,' and leave."
Joe just looked at me.
It was the truth. I wouldn't lie to him or try to make excuses. Because the same as any man, women were entitled to a fuss-free sex life should they so choose. And it didn't make us sluts, or whores, or any of the other nasty, misogynistic, double-standard bullshit that got thrown a woman's way when she didn't fit with the traditional ideals of who and what a female should be.
"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.
"No." My fingers immediately tightened around his. Which pissed me off even more. "All of the emotional stuff needs to stop, though."
"It does, huh? So what, you want mindless fucking?"
"Yes, absolutely. And lots of it."
His tongue played behind his cheek while his wonderfully proportioned dick stirred with interest. "O-kay."
"I don't mean to be critical but, last time you did it wrong," I said.
"I did it wrong?" Brows arched high in surprise. "Shit. Here I was worried I'd gotten too rough with you."
"No, no. Hard and fast is great. But what was with all of that eye-gazing stuff?"
Lips drawn wide in disbelief, he tilted his head, staring at me. Again.
"It was totally unnecessary, Joe. How am I supposed to relax when you're doing that?"
The man scratched his head. It killed the remains of his ponytail, making all that blond hair fall around his face, down to his broad shoulders. "So me watching, to make sure I was doing right by you, ruined everything?"
"Yes."
"I made you cry?"
I shrugged. Surely the evidence was clear enough.
"Tell me, Little Miss. Did I also make you come?"
"Yes. You know you did. It was good, great, even. But..."
"But it got too personal." Hands on hips, he stood, unmoving. "Me fucking you and watching you like that."
"I guess so." Though I would have put it in different terms.
"You'd prefer if I fucked you like I hated you, wouldn't you?"
I shrugged. "Well, yeah?"
He said nothing.
"Joe?" Cautiously I stepped toward him, zeroing in on the hard planes of his pecs, the gentler curve of his stomach. Nice to see he wasn't all ripped perfection. The man was intimidating enough.
"Mm?"
Lightly, I slid my fingers through his chest hair, resting my cheek over his heart. It beat away beneath me, strong and steady. His rib cage gently rose and fell on each breath. Bit by bit, my breathing slowed, calmed. His body was warm, even welcoming after a minute or two. Hands smoothed over my back, pulling gently at the fluffy robe until it started slipping off my shoulders.
"Okay," he said, baring me to the waist. Big hands covered my breasts, thumbs stroking my nipples. His eyes were calm, serene, even. "Since I clearly don't know what I'm doing in the sack with you, I guess you better show me. For friendship's sake."
"Sure. I could do that."
Calloused fingers slid down to my waist, pushing the robe off me completely. Next to him, the cool air-conditioning didn't seem so bad. He kept me warm.
"I, um, I prefer to be on top," I said.
He gave me a quick smile. A flash of sharp teeth. "Of course you do."
And without another word, he picked me up and carried me back to the bed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Message sent three weeks ago:
Eric,
Help! Have you ever owned a cat? My neighbors asked me to watch their cat for the weekend while they went away. His name is Misty. Why you'd name a boy cat Misty I have no idea, but whatever. All the poor animal has done since arriving is hide under my bed and yowl. I've tried everything I can think of to lure him out. Biscuits, canned salmon, and calmly explaining that Greta (my neighbor) will be back for him Sunday night. I even tried tough love, telling him firmly that he was being a bad baby and demanding he come out. The little jerk scratched my hand when I reached for him, then went back to ignoring me. I don't know what to do and Google is being no help at all. What if he chokes on a dust bunny and dies under there?? Greta will never forgive me. You know, a plant I could have probably managed, but leaving me in charge of a sentient life force isn't a good idea. I don't think I'm ever going to be ready for motherhood.
Message received:
Alex, calm down. The cat is not going to die. Leave him alone and he'll come out when he's ready. I promise.
Message sent:
I left him alone and he came out. He's now on the couch watching an Animal Planet special on humpback whales. Apologies for freaking out slightly and thanks for the advice.
Message received:
Anytime. I'm sure one day, when you're ready, you'll make a great mother.
"Can I get you a cushion?"
"No, thank you." I gave Joe a nice calm, bland smile and turned back to his mother. "This meatloaf is wonderful, Audrey. Best I've ever tasted."
"You know, you strike me as the kind of girl who'd really be into meatloaf," said Joe. "I don't know why, you just do."
I ignored him.
"It's Eric's favorite," Audrey told me.
"I can see why."
The birthday boy put down his fork and lifted his bottle of beer in a toast to his mother. Happily, he said nothing. With a mouth full of food, saying nothing was always best. Eric looked part squirrel with his cheeks so full of birthday lunch.
Mr. and Mrs. Collins lived in a nice bungalow a few blocks back from Sanders Beach. A nice part of town. Joe told me how it'd become popular with the moneyed up in the last ten or so years. Some of the houses on the lakefront were amazing. Outside, massive old pine trees kept the house in almost perpetual shade. Inside the Collins abode were comfy couches and pastel walls covered in pictures of the boys. It was nice, homey and relaxed.
Unlike me at that particular point in time.
Unfortunately, Joe wasn't finished with his teasing yet. Sliding his arm over my stiff shoulders, he leaned in and not quite whispered, "Are you sure? The chairs are bare wood. I really don't mind fetching you a cushion to sit on."
"I'm sure."
"But--"
"I'm fine. Thank you."
Concern filled his mother's hazel eyes. "Is something wrong, Alex?"
"No."
Brows pinched, she turned to her eldest son.
"It's fine, Mom," said Joe. "Alex is just a little sore from--"
"Building," I hastily interjected. "Yeah. I'm not used to all that sanding and stuff. My muscles are just a little ... sore."
"Right. Building." The asshole who would most likely never live to see my pussy ever again grinned. "That's what I was going to say."
Unbelievable. It's like he actually wanted to be attacked with utensils. If he kept this shit up, I'd do a Betty Blue and fork him good, right in the back of the hand. Give him some scars to remember me by.
"Oh," said Audrey. "Would you like some aspirin?"
I shook my head. "I'm fine, really. But thank you."
At one end of the table, Joe's dad, Stan, said nothing, determinedly working away at his plate of food. His father's dark hair was threaded with gray and his face was weathered. Smile lines were definitely lacking. Once upon a time, he would have been a handsome man. His body still looked big, strong, though he moved slowly.
Stan grunted at me when we'd been introduced. Joe frowned and drew me into the kitchen to meet his about a billion times nicer mother. You could see where Joe got his golden hair, despite his mom's being a little faded.
At the other end of the table, Eric's mouth hung open. Empty now, thank God. The mildly horrified look in his eyes, however, was something special. Like it'd never occurred to him that his brother and I might wind up playing naked together.
Not that we'd played, exactly.
As I preferred, I'd been next on top. Reverse cowgirl, yee haa! No way he could ruin things with unnecessary eye gazing in that position. Then he'd turned me around and pounded into me doggy-style. The man made me see stars, I'd come so hard. Three times in one night was a lot. Especially after months of nothing. Once my guard was down, due to complete and utter exhaustion, Joe had cuddled me. It was terrible, disgusting. Fingers caressing me, lips pressing soft kisses to my shoulder and the back of my neck. Normally I'd never allow it, but it felt so good. Plus, I was almost comatose. His surprise attack of intimacy slipped straight though my usual defenses. The way he tempted me, getting me all hot and bothered and twisted up inside in the best way possible. And then, when I didn't think I could take anymore, he calmed everything down and made me feel safe. I wasn't used to being wanted in such different ways. Like I was more than my mouth, tits, and vagina. More than even our friendship.
