by Shandi Boyes
Ha! Have you learned nothing the past two years?
As my mouth devours Jamie’s with long dedicated licks, I curl her legs around my waist. I hate how fast this will be, but considering this is climax number three for her this morning, the heaviness isn’t crippling enough to slow me down. She knows I’ll take care of her, and that this won’t be her one and only surprise for today.
The bathroom is still steamy from our earlier antics. It adds to the stickiness slicking our skin when I pin her to the wall with my crane-like dick before cupping her round tit in my hand. I circle my lips around the sensitive pink flesh before sucking it into my mouth. Her moans ramp up as she thrusts out her chest, begging for more. I love how hard her nipples get for me—tighter and more pointed with every suck.
While I adore her tits, she skates her hand down the hard bumps in my abs, only stopping once she has the zipper of my jeans lowered and my cock in her hand. She drags her hand down my throbbing shaft, caressing the manhood she measured with precise accuracy only an hour ago. She didn’t use a ruler. She prefers the old metric system—tongue and fingers. It was a glorious morning.
An anguished moan fills my ears, quickly chased by, “Please, Colby.”
Jamie works my dick faster, matching the licks and sucks I do to her breast with long strokes. She jacks me off, each stroke having the head of my cock knocking at the door of her pussy. She’s soaked, her wetness as evident as the glistening of my pre-cum.
“What do you need, Prim? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”
My chest swells with smugness when she says breathlessly, “I want you to go down on me. To eat me until I scream your name.”
That confident, beautiful woman you just heard wasn’t always that way. She was so shy the first time we were together, I wasn’t sure she’d ever come out of the covers. I worshipped her then as I am now, but she had no clue of her beauty until I showed her. A peacock never wants his feathers plucked unless they’re being used to shelter the woman who made him a better man.
The gleam in Jamie’s eyes is now so bright, my ego feeds off her confidence.
I laugh when she adds a ‘Please’ to her request.
She watches me with wild, abandoned eyes when I lower her back onto her feet before falling to my knees—both for now. It’s crazy how much I crave her. The need never ends. Even with just having her, my thirst feels unquenchable.
“Put your leg on my shoulder, Prim.” When she does as instructed, I murmur in a groan, “Watch me.”
Her pussy welcomes my tongue with delicious wetness when I spear it between her drenched folds. When she calls out as if her legs are close to buckling after only one full lick, I grip her thighs with my hands before kissing her sweet pussy as I just did her mouth. I’ve consumed her many times the past two years, and I know what she likes, so her train to Orgasmville reaches its destination remarkably quick.
Jamie’s pussy coats my chin with juices as my name tears from her throat. She moans and writhes, her orgasm not holding back an ounce of strength even with it being her third one today.
Once she finishes shuddering, Jamie pulls my jeans over my ass, fully freeing my dick. It was already protruding well past the crotch of my jeans, but she wants the extra two inches only she can entice. I’m always thicker and harder with her, while somewhat gentler. We don’t always fuck. We make love too.
Pre-cum seeps from my crown when she snags a condom from a box on the vanity sink before ripping it open with her teeth. Once she has the tip pinched as she’s been taught, she rolls the tight latex down my shaft. Seeing her place protection on my cock has my urge to fuck at an astronomical level. I’ve never been harder, and Jamie appears more than aware of that. She stares down at my throbbing dick while her teeth graze her bottom lip. There’s no chance in hell she’ll be able to take all of me today, but I won’t tell her that until I’ve given her the first nine inches, which I do in exactly 2.3 seconds.
“Fuck.” Her curse word sounds more like an orgasm since its coming from her mouth. “Again.”
I drag my dick back out, loving that her pussy quivers as she endeavors to keep me inside, before thrusting back in. Her moan this time around is just as good as the first. It’s husky and ball-clenching sweet. When I draw back out for the second time, I add a swivel to my hips. I want her to come on my cock, to orgasm like she never has before, then I won’t feel bad for this being the quickest fuck we’ve ever had.
When she took me to the very root, her face reminded me today isn’t about me. It’s for her, the woman I’d give up every memory I’ve ever created if I could only keep the ones that include her.
Jamie’s moans heat my blood when my knob finds the sensitive spot inside of her. “Oh, God. It feels so good.”
I drive into her on repeat, not caring who may be in the foyer of The Drop Zone. This morning’s event is nothing out of the ordinary for them. With Jamie leaving her doucheface fiancé a mere day before they were set to meet at the end of an altar, and her dad relocating back to their family home to recommence finding himself—with some unknown help—she needed a place to stay. I thought my loft was an ideal answer. Jamie didn’t see it that way. It’s lucky I have persuasive techniques not even a geeky risk assessment calculator can deny.
Although she isn’t on the lease, Jamie is very much a part of The Drop Zone. If it weren’t for her, we would have never discovered Mr. Celest’s sudden wish to sue wasn’t his idea. It was that of Mr. Samuel Luis—Jamie’s ex-employee. He was working in cahoots with Markham Property Corporation on the agreement he would have a fifty percent stake in the six-star, adult-only golf facility they planned to build here after bulldozing The Drop Zone’s HQ. Their stupidity cost both companies millions of dollars and years in jail for those behind the scheme.
As much as it hurt Jamie to admit Brad only commenced pursuing her because he believed he could coerce her into doing anything he asked, it didn’t linger for long. It wasn’t just my hands, lips, and cock which assured her he was the only fool in their relationship, it was the fact that she didn’t fall for his tricks. Yes, she moved in with him after accepting his proposal, but within weeks of us getting together, she realized what she thought was love wasn’t. It wasn’t close to the all-encompassing feeling we experience when we’re together, and it was nothing like the sparks we’re creating now.
Moaning, I grip her hips and fuck her faster. I need her to come even more than I wish Tyrone would stop banging on my door. Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful my groveling had him staying on as a co-owner of The Drop Zone, but I’m two seconds from whipping out the IOU that’s been between us the past four years and tearing it up. He’s killing my mojo, which is unacceptable when it comes to Jamie. I don’t care how many times I make her come, if she’s not quivering, I’m not doing my job.
“Come on, Prim.”
Jamie inhales sharply when I notch in those extra inches she loves. My quads scream in pain as I fuck her like a wild animal, giving her everything I have. The way her pussy tightens around me is intense. She’s wet and screaming, but not giving me the final shout I’m craving.
I drive into her harder and deeper, hitting her uterus with more force than I should, but too turned on by her gasps to stop. Her grunts turn feral as everything about her tightens. Her nipples tilt high, her breathing shortens, and her pussy grips onto my cock like it’s the first time she’s been fucked so brutally.
“Oh. Ohh. Ohhh.”
As the most beautiful expression crosses her face, she calls out in a long, low groan that grips my heart as well as it does my sac. Cum rockets out of my dick, prolonging her whispered chants about how good I feel and how she’s never come so hard before. They’re closely followed by how she can’t wait to do it again and again and again.
Now I just need to set up phase two to ensure that is the case.
The pilot chute catches the air and inflates without incident, awarding Jamie and me the peacefulness I feel anytime she shouts my name during
ecstasy. Jamie has been working on the three hundred hours needed to jump solo, but she’s only a quarter of the way there. Half of me thinks it is because she prefers to jump with me. Who wouldn’t? She not only gets to feel the bulge not even the biggest belt buckle can deter from, she also gets to use it to double the adrenaline thickening her blood when we stumble into our loft like crazy teens who can’t get enough of each other.
“I can’t believe this was the big plan you needed help with.”
I drop my eyes to Jamie, who’s peering out at the horizon like she’s seeing more than blurry blobs. “Are you disappointed?”
She peers up at me, smiling. “Never. I just don’t know why you needed to keep it a secret. I’m still scared of heights, but I know I’m not in any danger skydiving. You’d never hurt me.”
After dragging my hand down the little point she swears her nose doesn’t have, I execute a swoop that will add to the thrill her comment just gave me. Once I have us on the right course, I loosen my grip on the toggles so I can dig out a black box I hid in the pocket of my jumpsuit.
Jamie’s big aqua eyes compete with the oceanic background when I wiggle one of her many glasses cases in front of her face. “You need to see this. It’s too beautiful to be blurred by poor vision.”
“The view? Or your ridiculously handsome face?”
When I wink, pleased she answered as I had hoped, she accepts the case from my hand with a laugh. “I wouldn’t endure eyestrain if I had the laser surgery Dr. Marco suggested.”
“And have you lose your dorky insurance-assessor look? Never. It’s too sexy to give up.”
Jamie laughs again before carefully prying open the case, gasping when she realizes they’re identical to the thick-rimmed ones she lost when I threw her over a cliff—literally. It took me weeks to find them since they’re no longer manufactured, but I refused to do this without them. Her glasses are a part of our story.
The gasps keep coming when Jamie places her glasses on the bridge of her delicate yet noticeable nose. I’m not steering our landing for the manicured lawn at The Drop Zone. We’re hovering like eagles about the ocean we had our first dip in.
That isn’t the sole cause of her shallow breaths, though. It’s the words Tyrone and Athena spelled out on the sand with rocks while I kept Jamie occupied in my loft. The words I have her father’s permission to ask.
Will you marry me?
“Colby…”
I pretend I don’t hear the nervousness nor excitement in her tone. “Straighten those sexy legs of yours, Prim. Keep them nice and still.”
When she does as instructed, I release the parachute strapped to my back as I did a little over two years ago. It gives away without incident. My experience alone ensures we’re safe, not to mention the fact I’d never hurt the woman strapped to the front of me.
“When we land in the water, I’ll swim us to the surface before untethering us. Do not swim, Prim. Unless you want my cock decommissioned like it was when you first arrived in my life.”
I feel her heart beat out a funky tune before she nods again. It’s so robust, even crossing my arms over her chest to protect her before we pierce through the water doesn’t slacken its intensity.
“Okay, here we go. Are you ready, Prim?”
She nods again before hollering in excitement. It’s gobbled up when we break through a salty layer of water that removed more than the chip from my shoulders two years ago. It broke the wall surrounding my heart as well. I fell in love with a woman who took my breath away by lodging her heel into my crotch while submersed by gallons of water. Mercifully, the only crushed nuts I’ll be handling today will be the ones on the sundae I plan to eat off Jamie’s body if she accepts my proposal.
With Jamie’s legs as straight as I hope her hair never is, I swim us to the surface. Since she failed to remove her glasses from her face, they’re missing when her head bobs out of the water. She doesn’t need them. She’s peering at me now like she’ll forever see me. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, and through sickness and health, Jamie will forever stand by my side as I will hers. Not a disease or a threat of forgetting will ever come between us.
While treading water like my muscles weren’t exhausted to the point of seizing only a mere fifty-five minutes ago, I remove a beautifully ‘prim’ diamond ring from my pocket then say five words I never thought I’d articulate without a snick of hesitation crossing my face. “Jamie, will you marry me?”
Tears add to the wetness on her cheeks when she throws her arms around my neck and whispers a word more powerful than a thousand, “Yes.”
Bonus Epilogue
I lied two years ago when I said nothing would come between Jamie and me. Something did—or should I say someone? She has wild blonde curls, dazzling blue eyes, and she snores just like her mother. Jamie will kill me when she discovers I caught her adorable snores on film, but I couldn’t help it.
Our daughter’s birth arrived with an incessant need to record every detail of her life. I don’t want to miss a single moment. Her first cry. Her first step. Even her first snorty snore has been categorized and stored—both in my brain and digitally.
The plaque on my brain has increased slightly over the past four years, but I’m not worried. I haven’t forgotten a single moment of my life since Jamie entered it. That’s why Ziggy lies on her mother’s chest with her curls unbrushed and her face grubby from Marley’s obsessive licks.
Our mangy rescue mutt didn’t leave a smidge of icing on Ziggy’s face when we celebrated her first birthday at our house with a plunge pool and a top-of-the-line Lexus that doesn’t overheat when it goes over forty.
Although I’ve ticked off every item Jamie requested when I threw her off a cliff, I plan to add heaps more. She failed to mention an outrageously handsome husband with a cock half an inch bigger than his brother’s during our sprint, so I’m aware she didn’t have the chance to vocalize all the top items on her hit list.
Fortunately for me, I have another sixty-plus years to work out what they are. You can put your money on it, ladies. I have this in the bag!
The End!
For real this time…
Did you know Colby’s brother, Cormack, already has a book? You can find it here: Sugar and Spice. It is also a standalone! Continue reading for a sample!
Join my Facebook page:
www.facebook.com/authorshandi
Join my READER’s group:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1740600836169853/
Join my newsletter to remain informed:
http://eepurl.com/cyEzNv
My Amazon Page:
https://www.amazon.com/Shandi-Boyes/e/B01D8C13WU
If you enjoyed this book - please leave a review.
Harlow
“No, it’s fine, really. I understand.”
I don’t, but what more can I say? My fourth employee of the month just up and quit. At least her excuse was more plausible than her predecessors’.
“My sister had a baby this morning.”
I don’t know about you, but I thought you had at least a few months’ notice for that sort of event. I guess times have changed? My ovaries did shrivel up and die months ago—right alongside my libido—so who am I to judge?
“Can you still make your shift tomorrow morning? Renee called in sick earlier today, so I don’t have other bakers available.”
I’m not mad at the loss of staff—Fallon was a shit employee—I’m just frustrated by her lack of respect. My bakery may not be the mecca it once was, but without staff to serve customers, I’ll descend even deeper into the sinkhole I’ve tried to ignore the past six months. I’m not asking for the two weeks’ notice I’m entitled to, but I need more than two measly minutes.
“Umm. . .”
A huff spills from my lips. “I’ll have your final pay wired into your account later this week.”
“You’re the best, Harlow! Thank you so much.”
Not giving me the chance to respond, not that
I was going to, Fallon disconnects our call. I place the phone receiver onto its console before slouching in my creaky office chair. I try to ignore the obvious, but I can’t disregard them for a second longer. Not only is my heart rate spiked, so is the number of overdue bills on my desk. I’m literally weeks from financial decapitation.
Before venture capitalists made Ravenshoe’s land value skyrocket, my bakery was thriving. It was never going to be a multi-million dollar empire, but it had a regular, steady income, capable employees, and a slew of customers. The customers still come, but they, just like me, don’t have the means to purchase non-essential items. Thank god true-blooded Americans haven’t given up their love of caffeine, or I would have closed my doors months ago.
With my determination wilting, my eyes drift to the thick white envelope a slick-grinned man handed me this morning. An easy way out of my predicament is hidden in that envelope. The amount cited on the transfer of assets isn’t just triple what my property is worth; it’s more money than I’ve ever seen, but no matter how generous the offer is, I can’t accept it. This bakery has been in my family for decades. Before I took over the reins, it belonged to my great aunt. Treasured family memories are embedded deep in its core. That makes it invaluable. I’ll never sell it. Not in a trillion years.
Recognizing that unwelcomed disappointment won’t get me anywhere fast, I pull up my sleeves and get to work—literally. I have an order for six dozen cupcakes due first thing tomorrow morning. At four dollars a pop, I can’t afford to leave the order unfilled. That's more than we cleared in sales today alone, and with Fallon calling it quits, that bequeaths the task to me. I’m the only baker left with the skills capable of getting the job done.
