by Ryan, Lexi
He hisses. “Jesus, Stella.” He shifts his hips forward.
I slide my hands up his thighs and push them farther apart before sweeping my fingertips across his balls.
He groans. “Are you just gonna tease me, or are you going to let me feel that mouth?”
My thighs clench at his unapologetic dominance. If I’d known Kace would be like this, I might’ve tried crawling into his bed a few more times.
I wrap my fist around his cock and guide the tip to my lips, sliding it against them. His hand tightens in my hair, and I meet his eyes. Opening my mouth, I take him in slowly. Inch by inch, I slide my lips down his shaft. His thumb brushes my cheek with the lightest touch, and I feel powerful and delicate in equal measure.
“Fuck.” His eyes float closed. “So good. Your mouth is so fucking sweet.”
Those words are my undoing, and I snap. I’ve fantasized about this—the taste of him, the shape and size. But the reality is so much better. He makes these tortured little grunts as I swirl my tongue around his shaft, and when I take him deep, his exhale is the sound of sweet relief. It’s sexy and heady. I’m doing this to him. I’m the one he wants . . . even if it’s just in this moment.
I’ve never loved giving head. Sometimes it’s felt like a chore, a requisite part of foreplay, and sometimes it’s been fun, but this is a whole new experience. A power trip. Kace might never give me his heart, and maybe I don’t deserve it anyway, but right now he’s mine. I want to make him feel good. I want to give him pleasure and release, and the fact that I can is a high I could ride for days.
I love playing with him, cupping his balls in my palm while I suck and lick, running my hands over the soft hair at the tops of his thighs while I let his hand in my hair set the pace. I want to memorize his response to every touch—every ragged inhale, every jerk of his hips as he gets closer to the edge and fucks my mouth.
“Stella . . .” His hand in my hair loosens and then tightens again. “Fuck, Stella, I’m gonna come in your mouth, baby.”
I moan—at the thought, at the promise—and take him deep, swallowing even before his orgasm hits. And during. And after. Until he’s collapsed against the back of the couch, breathing hard and looking at me like I’m a goddess.
Heavy footsteps sound in the hall, passing my room. “Kace? Where the fuck are you?” Dean calls.
* * *
Kace
My gaze darts to the bedroom door—the still slightly ajar bedroom door—then to the beautiful woman on her knees in front of me. Her lips are swollen after giving me the blowjob of a fucking lifetime, and her brother is right there.
I stand, and Stella scrambles backward, eyes big. She bites back a laugh as I awkwardly shove my dick into my boxers and pull up my pants.
“Rule number two of hookups,” she whispers, “is no freaking out after.” Her gaze darts to the door, but Dean’s footsteps are retreating. Thank Christ.
I button my jeans, then step forward and grab her hand to help her off the floor. She stands, and I pull her close. “I wasn’t done yet,” I growl into her hair.
Her silent laughter vibrates against my chest. “I can personally attest that you were, in fact, done.” She licks her lips. “I can still taste you.”
“Dirty girl. I mean we weren’t done.” I kiss her and slide a hand between our bodies, cupping her between her legs. She’s wet enough that I can feel it through her panties, wet enough that if I could slam that door and press her against it, she’d be ready for me to slide in. Aaaaand I’m hard again.
I rub two fingers along the cotton between her thighs, and she bites back a whimper. “I guess you owe me, then,” she says, breathy as fuck. I want to hear that voice in my ear as I drive into her. “But you should go before my brother comes back and catches us.”
I stroke her again, considering this. Dean is out there, and I need to leave, but I don’t want to. “How about we just lock that door so I can play with you for a little bit?” I slip a finger inside her panties, and damn. She’s drenched. So slick it’s impossible not to think about throwing her down on that bed and tasting her. “This for me?” I ask, my voice a husky whisper.
A desperate, barely audible cry slips from her lips. “Yeah. I guess I kind of liked giving you head.”
“I changed my mind.”
She swallows, eyes on mine. “About what?”
“I don’t care if you’re moving into my backyard. We need to do this the right way.” I slide a finger into her, and she gasps and clenches hard around it. Slick. Wet. Tight.
Fuck Dean. I’m never leaving this room.
“You should’ve seen yourself,” I say, my mouth against her ear. “The way you were moaning around my cock, the way you weren’t afraid to take me deep. I almost came at the first touch of your tongue. If I had, I’d get more time to play with you now.”
My phone buzzes at my hip, and I ignore it. Steps sound in the hallway again, but I hold Stella close. Right now, I don’t care about a damn thing but the feel of her on my hand and the way her breath catches when I pump my fingers inside her.
Dean’s voice echoes in the hall. “Kace, your truck’s here, but you’re not,” he says, probably talking to my voicemail. “Where the hell did you go?”
Stella’s eyes lift to mine. A little panicked, but a lot hazy with lust. She swallows and rocks against me, fucking my hand with the tiniest little thrusts, like she can’t help herself. “The window,” she whispers. Her eyes float closed, as if she’s struggling to focus. “You could climb out there and go around back.”
“In a minute.” I take a handful of her hair in my free hand and gently tilt her head back. Slanting my mouth over hers, I slide a second finger inside her. Her knees buckle. I swing her around and pin her against the door, pushing it shut. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, and I know she’s skating on the edge of coming. The lightest pressure to her clit, and I’d get to feel the spasms of her orgasm. She’s barely holding on, and it’s hotter than anything I’ve imagined.
“Please,” she whispers, back arching, hips searching for that pressure where she needs it.
I don’t give her what she wants. Not yet. “Can you be quiet for me? I’ll make it good.”
“Yes.” Her hips jerk. “Kace.”
I press my smile to her neck. I’ve imagined my name on her lips like that—breathy from pleasure and need—so many times. “You want my mouth on this pussy? I’d play with you so long, you’d beg to come.”
“I’m begging now.”
I’m vaguely aware of Dean working in the bathroom on the other side of the wall, of the sounds of wrenches clanking against pipes and his softly muttered curses. I’m in denial if I think anything I can do right now is going to leave either of us satisfied. “I’ve wanted you too long for a quick finger fuck to ever be enough, but I don’t have time to do this right. I need to savor you, Stella. For hours, not minutes. I need you naked and moaning, need to know the taste of you coming on my tongue.”
Another thrust of my fingers, and she throws her head back in pleasure and frustration. “Please.”
I flick my tongue across her earlobe. “Only because you asked nicely.”
I shift the angle of my hand and press my palm against her. It’s like flipping a switch. She clenches around me, and her nails dig into my back, and I watch her face as the orgasm washes over her—the way her head tips back and her mouth opens before she snaps it shut again and bites back a moan of relief. And now I know what I’ll be seeing in my dreams tonight.
So. Fucking. Beautiful.
Slowly, she relaxes in my arms and opens her eyes again. “Holy shit,” she breathes. “I can’t believe that just happened.”
“You and me both, Freckles.” I kiss her once, hard on the mouth, before making myself drop my hands and back away. If I stay in this room any longer, I’ll be searching for condoms. “Consider that a teaser. We’re not done here.”
She leans against the wall then sinks to the floor, a satisfied smile o
n her face. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
I open the window and let myself have one last, long look at the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. “Is that a challenge?”
She shrugs. “Maybe. Are you gonna take it?”
“You can count on it.”
Chapter Nine
Stella
My apartment/roommate hunt hasn’t been the smoothest, but I am highly motivated by this morning’s unexpected interlude with Kace. Damn, that was hot. I could barely focus on the lecture in chemistry. I was so distracted, in fact, that I nearly forgot I almost accidentally went on a date with my professor. I’ve wanted Kace for a long time, but now that I know how it is between us, I’m crazed for more. And I think he is too. I messaged him on my break, using Random, since that’s what he said he wants me to do. Can’t stop thinking about you. But he’s either busy or wigging out, because he hasn’t replied.
All the more reason not to screw up whatever this is by becoming his tenant.
When I pull up to my next potential home, I feel like the universe may finally be on my side. This place is blocks from downtown Orchid Valley—meaning it’s walking distance from Smithy’s and The Orchid—and it’s beautiful if a little run-down. I’m supposed to meet Kat, one of the girls who lives here. If I move in, I’d be the fourth roommate, but the colonial-style house certainly looks big enough.
I park my car, but I’m a few minutes early, so I pull out my phone to see if Kace has messaged me. Sure enough, the notifications light is flashing, and I can’t click it fast enough.
GoodHands69: I’ve been thinking about you too. But listen . . . this is awkward, so I’ll just say it. I’m also talking to someone else. I realize you are too—maybe several other guys. That’s how this works, right? But I’ve never done anything but serious and exclusive. Since I’m not looking for either of those things now, I find myself in new territory.
GoodHands69: Honestly, I don’t know what the rules of casual dating are—or if you’d even call this dating. I do know I can’t play games and pretend I’m someone I’m not. So, I want you to know I’m involved with someone else. It’s just physical and temporary. But I don’t feel like that gets me off the hook for not telling you about her, either.
I press my hand to my chest, but it doesn’t ease the ache there. Kace is seeing someone else.
I’m an idiot that I didn’t see this coming. He’s on Random. He’s looking to get back out there. Hell, I’m the one who’s supposedly “teaching” him how to do casual, and I should probably be feeling all warm and fuzzy that he wants even that from me. But it still burns like hell. I want to be enough. Enough that he doesn’t need to mess around with a physical relationship with some other girl. Enough that “serious” and “exclusive” are things he wants now—with me—not at some potential moment in the future.
I know I should be thanking my lucky stars that he’s even offering me this much. But is it better to go hungry, or to pretend you don’t need anything more than scraps?
I bite my lip and type out a reply.
ItsyBitsy123: You like her, then?
He must be on his phone already, because a reply pops up fast.
GoodHands69: Yeah, but I can’t see us together in any meaningful way. This is just a fling. There’s no substance, just physical attraction.
Hot with no substance. Poor girl. I know what it’s like to have Kace see you that way.
GoodHands69: I sound like an ass, but she’d probably tell you the same thing. She’s all wrong for me.
And your thing with me? I type. Is THIS a fling? I stare at the words, then delete them. Don’t ask a question if you can’t handle the answer.
I shove my phone into my purse and head up to the house.
The front door opens before I can knock. “Hey! You must be Stella! I’m Kat.” Kat’s willowy and tall, with a dark braid that hangs to the middle of her back and tattoos up and down both arms. She told me on the phone that she’s my age, which is a bonus, since the majority of people looking for roommates are college students. I might be returning to college, but I can’t return to the college-party house life. Been there, done that, got the medical bills to prove alcohol poisoning isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
“Thanks so much for letting me take a look at this place,” I say, peeking over her shoulder. “It’s beautiful.”
“We like it, but it has its flaws for sure.” She smiles, waves me inside, and proceeds to show me around the house.
I love the hardwood floors and high ceilings. I’d never be able to afford a place like this on my own, but as one of four people splitting the rent, it’s doable.
After we look around upstairs and I’ve checked out the available bedroom, Kat takes me back to the main floor and pushes open a swinging wooden door off the dining room. “This is the kitchen,” she says. “Obviously, it’s tiny and needs updating, but the appliances all work. We use the closet back there for a pantry, so there’s plenty of room for our food.”
“I don’t cook much anyway,” I say, flashing her a smile before I peek into the pantry. Each of the shelves is labeled with a different name. “Does everyone buy their own food?” I ask, returning to the kitchen.
Kat makes a face and nods. “Yeah. We tried the whole split-the-grocery-bill thing, but it’s not a good fit for this group. I’m a vegan,” she says, pressing a hand to her chest. “Jay eats like a teenage boy, and Danika eats out constantly.” She shrugs. “It works better this way. I hope that’s not a problem.”
“Not at all. I’ve split groceries with roommates before, and it was always a nightmare.” I smile.
“Right? This is so much better.” She returns my smile, and I feel hopeful about my living situation for the first time since Dean admitted he needs me to get out of Mom’s place.
“I really love this place,” I admit. “When can I meet the roommates?”
“Well, Danika’s out of town, so she said she trusts us to pick without her, but Jay’s just out back if you want to meet him now.” She points over her shoulder toward the yard.
“That’d be great. Thank you.” I follow her through the pantry and to a back door with crumbling concrete steps that lead to a cracked patio. It’s not a problem for me—this is the typical condition of these historic homes before guys like Kace and Dean get their hands on them—but I can’t help but compare it to Kace’s backyard, which was like this when he bought the house and now looks almost new after only a couple of months of his hard work.
“We have a potential roommate,” Kat announces, pulling my attention off the patio and toward the guy lounging in the lawn chair.
He turns to me, and I freeze. Kat’s roommate is Jared. My disastrous date from Friday night. And he’s looking at me like I’m an obsessive stalker he can’t escape.
* * *
Kace
Tuesday passes in slow motion. Despite giving Dean what I thought was a pretty damn believable excuse about searching for plumbing parts in his mom’s shed, he acted weird as fuck the entire two hours it took to fix that stupid leak. I got so sick of him giving me sideways stares that I was ready to lecture him about Stella being an adult who can make her own choices. But I’m still ninety percent sure he doesn’t know there’s anything happening between me and her, and rather than open that can of worms, I kept my mouth shut.
By the time we were done, Stella was gone. It was for the best, maybe, since I had my own shit to do. Unfortunately, counting her freckles with my tongue wasn’t on the list. If she’d still been home, I might’ve kept her from class so I could make good on some promises.
As it is, I don’t think I’ve gone sixty seconds without thinking about her. That mouth. The sight of her on her knees. The heat between her legs. The sounds she made when she came. I spent most of my day hard and obsessing about sex, and now I remember what it’s like to be sixteen again. Then Itsy messaged me on Random, said she couldn’t stop thinking about me, and I felt like an ass.
I’ve never played t
he field before, and even though Stella and I are just casual, just blowing off steam with no promises or strings, it was strange to have one woman admit she’d been thinking about me while I was busy fantasizing about someone else. I know I’m not doing anything wrong, but it doesn’t sit right. I wasn’t sure if I needed to tell Stella about Itsy and vice versa or if that was completely unnecessary, but then I realized it doesn’t matter if it’s necessary or not. I’m not the kind of guy to omit information like that—even if nothing serious is happening with a woman.
So I told Itsy—that was the easy one—and now I need to tell Stella, who I’m pretty sure is going to laugh at me. I’m so anxious to get this over with that I came to The Orchid with the flimsy excuse of needing to check in on the new steam rooms my guys are installing, even though they have it covered and sent me photo updates yesterday.
As expected, the tile guys are still on track. Just like they were yesterday. But I play it cool and check in with Brinley to make sure she’s happy with the progress and doesn’t need anything else. She is. And doesn’t. Just like yesterday.
Only then do I allow myself to head up to reception to look for Stella. I don’t even know if she’s working today, and if she is, it’s not like I can pull her away from her post to fuck her on a massage table. Though the idea of Stella, massage oils, and an adjustable table holds enough appeal that I file the idea away. Just in case the opportunity presents itself . . .
I push through the swinging door between the staff hall and reception, and my heart sinks at the sight of a young woman at Stella’s regular post.
She smiles brightly. “Hi! Can I help you?”
