Blue Eyed Devils Collection

by Paula Ridge

  “It’s not nice to take advantage of her in her current condition. I would think somebody with your background would have a little more tact. You’re in the business of protecting people. Act like it,” she chastises while walking behind me.

  I could swear I hear her whistle at me, but maybe it is wishful thinking.

  We go through the kitchen where a young couple is making out like lovesick teenagers. They are all over each other. There is no doubt alcohol has served as the catalyst for their impulsive behavior. They don’t care what is going on around them. That oblivious bubble is something I have seen in the past.

  Being a product of a nasty divorce has made me less likely to take that walk down the aisle. Avoiding commitment altogether is a fulltime job. The one thing I hate more than anything in the world is a woman looking to get a wedding ring on my finger.

  “I like the way you boss me around. It reminds me of what I went through in boot camp. That was a few years ago, when I didn’t have any discipline. I think I have come a long way since then.” I carry the dead weight of this stranger over my shoulder with Emma whispering behind my back.

  We go past a couple of doors which are locked until she motions to the one at the end of the hall. She uses her key to get inside. It means this is where she is staying for the weekend. I’m getting a sneak peek behind the curtain of where the magic could happen.

  The canopy bed is made of sturdy stuff.

  She tries to help me lower her friend to the mattress with some modicum of dignity.

  We get tangled together until we are falling on the mattress beside the unconscious form of her friend. Emma is on the bottom, looking up into my eyes.

  I try to remove myself from the equation, but she doesn’t let me. Emma grabs the collar of my tuxedo shirt with our bodies pressed together. This isn’t what I was expecting from her after she has been playing defense all night long.

  “Don’t think about it. Just kiss me before I change my mind,” she urges with her right hand moving through my hair until she has me at a loss for words.

  “Your wish is my command,” I say moments before our lips came together.

  She certainly does have the power and I’m the one following her lead.

  Ch 3 – Emma

  The time is now; my body is screaming at me to do something about this chemistry between us. He doesn’t have to be so damn handsome and debonair in that tuxedo. It makes him look like a spy.

  James Bond could only dream of looking that good.

  I move my hands over his muscular arms, feeling them flex underneath the thin fabric of that white shirt. Pulling at the bow tie and releasing it makes it easier to go after his buttons.

  The kiss is amazing, and it is a wonder I can even move while he is passionately taking my breath away. I hear somebody snoring, but her presence does nothing to hamper the heat that is being generated between us.

  The window is open allowing this pleasant cross breeze into the room.

  His hand is pulling down the strap of my dress. I half-heartedly try to stop him, but he seems to be more than what he appears on the outside. It doesn’t seem possible after everything I have witnessed. My game was to leave him with a perpetual case of blue balls. It doesn’t look like that is going to happen, as the kiss is slowly lowering my inhibitions with the help of a couple of glasses of champagne.

  I’m holding onto his arms and finding his muscles somewhat distracting. There is more going on underneath the tuxedo. My fingers go to work by slowly unbuttoning his shirt with the bow tie hanging loosely around his neck.

  His tongue seems educated, by the insistence of the tip running the length of the top of my mouth to ignite those little nerve endings. My panties are sticking to me with the moisture in the crotch causing me to shift my legs underneath him.

  I roll us over until I’m the one on the top taking advantage of him, and not the other way around. Breaking the kiss takes a lot of willpower. I didn’t even know I had that strength deep down. I gently bite on the bottom of his lip to prolong the agony of his surrender to me

  My reflection in the mirror across from us shows a wanton woman on the prowl. My long hair is disheveled, but I have to admit that I have never looked better.

  “I guess you can say I’m complicated. Don’t get any ideas. This is what it is, and it doesn’t have to be anything more than that.” I’m looking into his penetrating eyes until I have that final button undone with his shirt pulled out from his pants.

  “You said a mouthful. Burning hot and cold should be a red flag but I’m not going anywhere. You have my undivided attention,” he hisses through his teeth, with me opening up his physical dominance to my eager eyes.

  I see a few scars, which only make him that much more delicious in my eyes. It means that he knows what it is like to put his life on the line for something bigger than himself. His strength is evident, but I’m interested in what is making itself noticeable through his pants.

  I could have been stuck watching over a drunken woman, but this is far more pleasing, and I don’t feel guilty about leading him around by the nose. I’m attempting to make him see the error of his ways when it comes to seducing women. Becoming the stereotype of falling into his arms and basking in his huge shoulders is making me feel like I’m taking a step back for women.

  My lips converge on his neck and I gently tug at his earlobe with my tongue swirling around the edges. He squirms and giggles underneath his breath.

  “That tickles, but I didn’t say that you should stop.” He turns his head to give me more room to move, with one hand sliding down his bare chest and feeling those ripples against my fingertips.

  The man is built and there is no denying that this is the kind of body I can get lost in exploring. My fingers find their way down to the button on his pants and I easily remove that obstacle with one flick of my finger. They continue with the zipper until I have him in a position where I can get my hand freely into his underwear.

  “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me. This is not something I do. I can count on my one hand how many times I have allowed my libido to take control of me. That is the old me from a few years ago, when I didn’t give a damn about anything. I’m trying to be a little more aware of my actions. This is a slip; don’t get used to it,” I say with the tip of my tongue slowly traveling down to where my hand is currently holding onto something bigger than I expected.

  “You’re the one in the driver’s seat, literally and figuratively. I’m just along for the ride.” It is a good answer and he does nothing to make me feel like I’m in trouble.

  I’m seeing a sobering side of myself where I can be open to the possibilities. There is no fooling myself into thinking we have a future. This is primarily a way to get one out of the chamber. He causes me to be a little bold and brazen with my approach. Having him fall down on top of me is the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  I’m soon on my knees with his legs spread until I’m inching his pants down over those muscular legs. The object is bigger up close and is leaking like a faucet with this clear, sticky fluid running slowly down the length of his shaft.

  A little bit of pressure brings more of the liquid ambrosia to the tip. I can feel something inside of myself climbing to the surface. This isn’t love, but I’m not sure what it is to put a label on it. What am I supposed to do when he is right there in front of me?

  There is no turning back.

  There is no time to think it through when my mouth makes him moan loud enough for people to hear outside. This is a compromise where I’m going to finish something he started.

  “For your information, I’ve had just enough to drink to still know what I’m doing and not feel guilty about it. There’s a balancing act when it comes to being influenced by alcohol. There will be no apologies after we walk out of this room together. I’m squarely putting the blame on Amber and Shane for what happens here,” I tease before holding his member hostage in my fist, with my mouth slowly desce
nding on his monument of manhood.

  Oral expertise comes from experience, but it has been quite some time since I have given these privileges to any man. It is fun to see his reaction with his face morphing into something animalistic. Those feral urges are taking over.

  I bury him in my throat and hold him there for a few seconds. Looking up into his blue eyes tells me that this is a new experience for him. Determining what to do next comes from his body language and how he responds to the heat that I’m inflicting him with.

  “I’m not even sure what to say. I really didn’t think this was going to happen. I was going home when you stopped me, but I’m glad you did. I probably would’ve kicked myself if I had left without at least one kiss,” he proclaims, with his hips starting to move in the same rhythm as my lips moving up and down the length of those impressive inches.

  The signs are there of his imminent release. The buildup is quite significant, with that vein down the back throbbing to let me know things are going to boil over. I hold him with two fingers and squeeze off the flow before things can escalate past the point of no return.

  My mother wouldn’t trust him and would know that he is with me for one thing. Bad reputations come with the territory when a military background is present. However, it doesn’t stop me from applying the right kind of incentive to make him putty in my hands, and mouth.

  “This is better than anything I’ve had in the past, and I’m not just saying that. I know a good thing when I feel it. I’m glad that I am sober for this. I don’t think it would feel the same if we’re both drunk. It’s far better to be in control than to see things through rose-colored glasses.” His words convince me to climb on top, still wearing the dress with one strap down and exposing my porcelain shoulder.

  I hold the base with my feet firmly planted on the mattress hovering above him. The dress hides what I’m going to do but it certainly doesn’t stop him from feeling the heat of my mound kissing the tip.

  “I agree with you in theory. It’s been my personal experience that drinking too much leads to bad decisions. I think this one bad decision is something I can live with. I see something more in you. There’s a reason why you have kept people at a distance, especially the opposite sex.” I don’t want to pull off the band-aid without more information to go on.

  “I can’t think straight. How you’re able to have an intelligent conversation during this kind of overwhelming, hot to the touch, sex is beyond me,” he answers with his hands on my hips to guide me onto him.

  I feel that intimidating presence pushing past the soaking wet lips of my resistance. Everything is falling into place in exactly the right way at exactly the right time. No frilly umbrella drink has moved me to take this kind of action in the heat of the moment.

  My breath comes out in one long drawn out whisper of persuasion. Every inch is momentarily frozen inside of me. There isn’t one piece of him that doesn’t feel the grip strength of my inner muscles.

  I’m carving a moment in time with my fingernails scratching his chest to leave a temporary mark of our time together.

  I get overzealous and actually break the skin without drawing blood. It is that raw sexuality coming out to play after all this time being locked away. There are bad days and good days. This is shaping up to be one of the best.

  I’m rocking back and forth on top of him and riding up and down in a pattern that he is never going to be able to discern. This is about beating him at his own game by leaving him a skid mark in my history. This is meant to place him in my rearview mirror.

  “Zac, there’s no question in my mind. You have what it takes to bring the girls to your yard,” I’m using lyrics from a song but in a different way than is intended.

  I’m flipping the script to make those lyrics my own.

  This is my way of snubbing my nose at destiny. Laughing for no good reason is my answer to this fire burning out of control. I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m making light of what we are doing. It probably depicts me as some kind of crazy woman with a screw loose. Maybe that is for the best. He will be less likely to come looking for more if he thinks that I’m out of my mind.

  The crazy ones are the most passionate. I certainly make him believe it.

  I’m bouncing up and down on top of him, making sure to slow down when I feel he is getting too close to the edge. This gives me ample time to bring about three different orgasms in a variety of intensities. Playing his body like a musical instrument is easy when I know what strings to pluck.

  The strap on my dress falls around my waist with my wild enthusiasm, exposing my dirty little secret of not wearing a bra. I feel they are a hindrance, somewhat like a straitjacket, and I try to avoid wearing them whenever possible.

  He takes the opportunity to steal my orgasm by clamping his lips over one of my nipples. They are already hard as stone and he is now licking that one in a circle to make my head spin. The gloves come off and I scream with that fire inside spewing all over him.

  This becomes a domino effect with his knob pulsing inside of me. It releases the storm that has been brewing since the moment we came into the room. Every shot makes me feel waves crashing in my head, until I’m lying down on top of him out of breath and out of time.

  Falling asleep with his heartbeat to bring me some comfort has me waking up startled to see that an hour has already gone by. He is no longer here. It is something I would cherish, having him here, but I’m not going to chase him. That would send the wrong message.

  Ch 4 – Zac

  Breathing the night air is my way of getting some distance from the problem lying not more than 100 feet behind me. I got everything I’ve ever needed from a woman in that one session; now what do I do?

  “It looks like somebody has been bitten by the love bug. Trust me; I know that look better than anybody. I can tell exactly what you’re thinking. You don’t have to believe me, but everybody falls for the person they’re meant to be with eventually. Did you really think you were going to be any different?” Shane sits down beside me with this smile on his face that he can’t possibly wipe away.

  “I thought you were supposed to be on your honeymoon. I can tell from your face you have already consummated the marriage. Why are you here?” I say, a little perturbed by him interrupting my thoughts when they are a jumble of inconsistencies.

  “The room was flooded out by a broken pipe. We came back here without anybody realizing it. The basement is surprisingly soundproof. I saw you out here sitting on the beach alone after I came up to get a drink of orange juice to replenish my fluids. I can’t stay long. She’s going to come looking for me and nobody wants that,” he warns with a playful jab to my shoulder.

  I’m holding a chilled bottle of beer in my hands. “Nobody is stopping you from going back in there.”

  “Don’t change the subject. Amber noticed you around Emma. She thought that you would be able to leave well enough alone, but I knew differently. What I wasn’t expecting was to see you crying in your beer. My, how the mighty have fallen. I can’t blame you. I thought it couldn’t happen to me but look at me now. Getting married is the last thing I thought was going to be in my cards,” he says with his smile getting on my last nerve.

  “I’m not like you. The idea of getting married instills a fear in me that doesn’t even compare to running into a barrage of bullets. I’m supposed to be the strong one, able to resist any woman’s charms. I can’t stop thinking about her. There’s nothing I can do. I am a complete mess and we both know it. I’m not even sure that I agree with the concept of monogamy. That was then and this is now. What the hell am I supposed to do? This is foreign territory for me.” I look at him, pleading with my eyes for him to give me some kind of clue.

  The ocean isn’t quiet with the waves crashing onto the sand at my feet. It makes me believe everything I’m going through is merely a spit in the bucket compared to the threats that still loom in the darkness. I’m instrumental in making some of those threats disappear permanently.


  “The only thing that I can tell you is to not let this go. I’ve never seen this side of you. You’ve always been flippant about relationships, but I understand why. I know about your mom and dad, and how they used you as a weapon to hurt each other during and after the divorce. It can’t be easy to think there is a fairy-tale ending after experiencing that. They did you a disservice by making you see that as the example of marriage. It’s no wonder you treat women like they’re there for your personal pleasure, but it doesn’t have to be like that,” he says in his attempt to convince me to let somebody in at the risk of losing them all over again.

  “I feel like I’m behind the wheel drunk, and swerving all over the road without a single ounce of liquor touching my lips. It’s driving me crazy. I thought this was just going to be another standard wedding, where I got lucky with one of the bridesmaids. That did happen, but not in the way that I was expecting,” I mention with the untouched beer bottle still gripped between my fingers.

  It does look refreshing, but I want to keep my head clear to think things through.

  “She might be the one to take the risk on. That is a question that only you can answer. Don’t be a fool. You don’t have to get caught up in the past. Don’t let what your parents did to you define you. Stop holding onto the man you were. Change is a good thing - embrace it before it’s too late.” He is quite convincing, and he could probably write a song that would become a chart busting hit on the country circuit.

  I stand up and dust myself off, but I’m still going to find sand in places it shouldn’t be.

  “You have given me a lot to think about. I’m sure the answer will come to me. She does make me think about the future and how much I would love for her to be a part of it. I’m just not sure how to say this to her without making it sound insincere,” I say while standing here, with the beer in hand, until I kneel down and let it sit there in the sand, abandoned.