Look Up. One of the reasons guys love blowjobs is it’s fun to watch. We are visual creatures, and your mouth on his dick is the best movie he’s ever seen. It’s his favorite, in fact, and he can’t watch it enough times. And when you, the beautiful star, look up and make eye contact with him, he feels like a million fucking dollars. Sometimes Cinnamon Buns looked up at me with this innocence in her eyes, as though she couldn’t believe how big I was, how hard I was, how deep I was. Other times, the look in her eye was pure salacious delight, and she’d moan or laugh or sigh, like the pleasure was all hers.
Use Your Hands on Him. Yes, it’s mostly about his dick, and no man will complain if that’s all you want to focus on. But while you are merrily sucking him into oblivion, don’t be shy about touching him other places. Balls. Nipples. Ass. (Cinnamon Buns was not shy.) If he doesn’t like it, he’ll let you know, but I’m gonna venture a guess he does.
Use Your Hands On Yourself Too. At one point, Cinnamon Buns got so turned on by what she was doing, that she touched her body the way I would have if I hadn’t been so paralyzed with joy by the sight of her doing it. In fact, I nearly fired the canon before I could properly warn her, which a gentleman should never do. (Are you listening, gentlemen?)
Swallow. You don’t have to pretend it’s the nectar of the gods, but it sure makes us feel good when you do. I don’t actually recall the expression on Cinnamon Buns’s face when she swallowed because I was too blinded by rapture, but when I recovered the use of my eyes, she looked delighted. Sated. Pleased with herself and with me.
I was pleased as well.
And I showed her by returning the favor before she even caught her breath.
Sound good?
You know what to do.
(Guys? That goes for you too.)
Oh my God.
I finished the article and read it again three more times. My mind whirled, my heart beat crazily, and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. Not only because the me he’d described was so hot and alluring or because he was so cute and funny or because his words brought back the memory of last night in breath-stealing detail, but because of three little words he’d said about me…
She’s just magic.
I wasn’t magic, but we were.
I felt it too.
Fifteen
Miles
Why was she so quiet? Did she hate it? As she read, I kept trying to get a glimpse of her expression, read her body language, but she was sort of turned toward the window. She gasped once or twice and brought one hand slowly to her mouth, but I couldn’t tell if it was because she was shocked, embarrassed, or touched. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have written about her. Natalie wasn’t show-offish like other women, who sometimes begged me to write about them. A lot of them even asked me to use their real names too, which I never did. Not only for their protection, but also because real names suggested a level of intimacy I wasn’t comfortable with.
“Hey,” I said, tapping her head. “What’s going on up there? Do you hate it?”
“No, I love it!” she said, turning toward me with bright eyes. “Are you kidding? Thank you for saying all those things. Really, it was the best blow job you’ve ever had? The Stanley Cup of blowjobs?”
“Definitely.” I nodded, relieved she wasn’t angry. “You’re the top. And I’ve had a lot of blowjobs, I mean seriously a lot, and by some really hot women. I remember this one girl who—”
“OK, OK. Enough.” She held up her hand. “I get it. Thank you. I’m flattered, and you should stop talking now.”
I grinned at her. God, I was even starting to adore the frowny face. “Sorry. Anyway, she was nothing compared to you. That was my point.”
“So you really meant all those things you said?” She sounded surprised.
“Like I told you, I always mean what I say, Nat. Especially where you’re concerned.” I wondered which things in particular had her curious, but didn’t ask. “Now my problem is that you’ve ruined blowjobs for me forever because nothing will ever compare.”
“Oh, right.” She shook her head and sighed. “Something tells me you’ll be just fine, Miles Haas. And considering you just explained exactly what you like in a blowjob to any woman who reads your stuff, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of qualified applicants to replace me.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’ll always be my favorite.” I tugged a few strands of her hair, happy at the sweetly surprised expression on her face.
For about five seconds.
Because I realized it was true—no matter what happened, no matter how many hot girls lined up to blow me, I’d forever compare them unfavorably to her. And what about sex? Had she ruined that for me too?
Quickly I tried to think of another girl I’d rather go to bed with than Natalie, another pussy I’d rather taste, another body I’d rather be inside. And I couldn’t.
A sweat broke out on the back of my neck.
Because I realized I’d never been able to think of another girl I’d choose over Natalie. Ever.
And now that it had happened, I never would.
What the fuck was I going to do about that?
For one crazy moment, I wished we weren’t so good together. I wished the sex was average, the chemistry lackluster, the feeling I got when I came inside her something less than fucking transcendent.
For an even crazier moment, I thought about promising her everything and all of me if only she’d say she wanted it.
Then I shook it off.
That was fucked up.
We stopped once for lunch and once for more coffee and gas, and arrived in Detroit around four o’clock that afternoon. Natalie wanted to see my apartment before we did anything, so I parked in the garage adjacent to the building and took her up to the twenty-third floor. I unlocked the door and let her in first.
“Wow,” she breathed, setting her bags down. “This is beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I set my keys on a small table against the wall and kicked the door shut. “The guy who rents it to me said it was built in the twenties but abandoned for years before they renovated.”
“That’s amazing.” She walked over to the huge floor-to-ceiling windows and looked out. “I love the view.”
“Cool, isn’t it? The guy asked me if I wanted shades on those windows and I said no way.”
She turned around and took in the furniture, wood floors, and two-story ceiling before wandering over to the kitchen. “Holy shit,” she said, running her hand over the shiny granite counter. “This is gorgeous.”
“Yeah, he’s a chef, so this kitchen is totally decked out.” I went to the huge stainless fridge and took out two beers, taking the caps off before handing one to Natalie. “Actually he owns a restaurant called The Burger Bar in Corktown that I love. Maybe I’ll take you there for dinner.”
“Why’d he move out?” she asked, her wide eyes taking in the dark wood cabinets and stone tile floor.
“He got married and bought a house in Indian Village.”
“Oh.” She took a sip of her beer and meandered into the pantry. “What the hell, Miles? You have, like, nothing in here.”
“I’ve got the basics.” I leaned back against the counter and tipped up the bottle.
“What basics? Cap’n Crunch, Doritos, and Twinkies? Oh wait, I do see a bag of flour in here.”
“Yeah, I think he left that.”
“Oh my God.” She came out, shaking her head. “Let’s go to the grocery store while I’m here. I’ll help you fill up your pantry and show you some easy things to make.” She put her hand on the fridge handle and looked at me. “Do I even want to open this? Is six months’ worth of moldy takeout food going to attack me?”
“It might.”
She opened it up and sighed. “No mold. But what do you live on? Beer and cereal?”
I shrugged. “I could probably live on that.”
She shut the fridge and stuck a hand on her hip, looking adorably concerned for me. I let myself fantasize for a moment that
she lived here too, that we shared things like beer and Twinkies, that she’d cook for me and I’d…well, I’d think of something to do for her. There must be something I had to offer.
Your dick! That’s what you have to offer, asshole. So stop with the stupid silly shit and go have sex.
“That diet cannot be healthy.” She threw a hand up in exasperation. “How are you in such good shape? It’s so annoying!”
Smiling, I set my beer down and tugged her toward me by the hem of her shirt, setting her hips against mine. “How about cinnamon buns? Are those healthy?”
“No.”
I buried my face in her neck, kissing her hungrily, licking her throat. “But they taste so good.”
She giggled. “I suppose they’re all right for a treat. Every once in a while.”
“How about now?” My hand slid up her stomach, palming her breast as I kissed my way to her mouth. My dick came alive, pushing against the crotch of my jeans. “Can I have some now?”
She set her beer on the counter and took my face in her hands, sliding her tongue along my lips. “Yeah. Want to show me your bedroom?”
Without another word, I took her hand and led her up the stairs to the loft bedroom, which was above the kitchen.
“Aha. You have a shade on this window, at least.” Natalie went over and pulled it down, and the room into shadow.
“Only because I like to sleep in, and that window gets morning sun.” I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her away backward. “Come here, you. It’s been hours since I’ve seen you naked. That’s not right.” Lifting her shirt at the bottom, I pulled it over her head, then undid her shorts and yanked them down.
She turned to face me, sliding her shoes off her feet before taking off my shirt. For a moment, she stood silently, looking at my bare upper body. Then she put her hands on me, running them up my arms and down my chest. “I used to look at you,” she said, her fingertips brushing my nipples, which made my cock surge with lust. “That last summer before you left, I used to look at you and wonder what it was like to touch you this way.” She unbuttoned my jeans and slid a hand inside them. “And I felt so guilty,” she whispered, bringing her lips to my chest, her fingertips playing with the tip of my cock. “I knew it was wrong, but sometimes I saw you looking at me, and I wondered what you were thinking.”
“Uh, safe to say I was thinking about fucking you.” I reached between her legs and stroked her softly through her panties. “I used to imagine your body naked under mine, your back arched, your legs spread.” I slid my hand inside her underwear, teased her open. “I’d think about touching you this way, making you wet.”
Her breaths coming faster, she wrapped her fingers around my dick and worked them slowly up and down. “And then what?”
“Then I’d have to go take a shower so I could jerk off.”
She looked up at me. “Show me. I want to watch.”
Oh, fuck. Was she serious? “You do?”
“Yes. Let’s take a shower together.” A devilish little glint flashed in her eyes. “And I’ll let you watch me too.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “You are such a bad girl right now.”
“I know.” Rising up on tiptoe, she whispered in my ear. “You can punish me later.” Then she took her hand off me and sauntered through my closet into the adjacent bathroom, stopping to look over her shoulder in the doorway. “Well, come on, cowboy. You brought me all the way here. Don’t you want to play with me?”
I stared at her in complete fucking disbelief. What the hell was this? She was out-Miles-ing me! She was so hot and had me so off-kilter, I didn’t even know what to do with myself!
Get it together, Haas. Natalie Nixon is standing in your bathroom doorway in a little white lace bra and panties, and she’s asking you to play. This is what you do—you play. You don’t have Emotions, you don’t have girlfriends, and you don’t have time to stand here wondering if the life that’s being upended here is yours. Now get the fuck in there and do your thing.
But even as I grinned and ditched the rest of my clothes while she watched, biting that juicy bottom lip of hers, the floor seemed to tremble beneath my feet.
Sixteen
Natalie
I had no idea what possessed me to ask Miles if I could watch him jerk off in the shower, but now that I was here with a front row seat, I thanked my lucky stars I had. Hot water streamed down his body while steam billowed up around it. It was a feast for the eyes, and I could hardly get my fill. Where to begin? From bottom to top, he was simply delicious. I sat on the tiled bench and he stood in front of me, feet planted wide. His legs were so muscular—I’d forgotten how taut and toned they were from years of soccer and running. His cock was hard and thick, slipping through his fist in long, slow pulls, making my clit pulse with desire. Water dripped from flexing muscles in his forearm, shoulders, abs. It ran down his chest over the points of his hip bones and down his thighs, tempting me to drop to my knees at his feet and lick it up. The ink on his body was wet and shiny, and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. He used his right hand on himself; the other was fisted at his side. Sometimes he looked down at what he was doing, but mostly his eyes were on me.
“Is this what you wanted?” His voice was low and even.
“Yes.” I moved to the edge of the bench, closer to him.
He stepped back. “Uh uh. No touching.”
“But—”
“You wanted to watch; you’re going to watch.”
I stared at his cock, solid and slick, darker than the skin on his stomach, and lined with thick veins. Licking my lips, I looked up at him. “Please?”
“No. You want your hands on something? Touch yourself. Show me like I’m showing you.”
If I wasn’t so turned on, I’d have been more self-conscious. As it was, I opened my knees for him and arched my back, sliding one palm up my inner thigh.
“Fuck, yes.” His eyes followed my fingers as they moved toward my pussy. He stroked himself harder. “God, that’s so fucking hot. Do it.”
The kick I got from seeing how much he enjoyed what he was doing while watching me was like fire in my veins. I smiled wickedly and dropped my chin, looking up at him through lowered lids, while my fingers circled my clit. Seeing as I had no toys, and sex with Dan had become a rarity the last year, I was an expert at getting myself off with my hand and rather enjoyed it. Granted, I’d never had an audience before, but I was delighted to find it aroused me even further, knowing that Miles was jerking off to the sight of me when he’d only had the thought of me before.
“Tell me.” He struggled to speak. “What you’re thinking about.”
“Your cock,” I said, breathless and panting. “Your cock inside me. So deep it hurts. Hitting me in that spot. Rubbing me just the right way.”
“Yes. Fuck. Yes.” Words hissed from his mouth through gritted teeth. “My cock in that tight, wet pussy.” His eyes were glued to my hand, and my legs tingled with pleasure.
“Oh, God. Miles.” I watched his hand work hard and fast, his thick solid flesh slipping through his fist, the muscles in his abs flexing. “I’m close. Do it with me.”
“Christ,” he rasped, leaning forward and bracing his left hand on the wall behind me. “I can’t stop. Fuck…”
“Here.” I flattened my palm on my chest, slid it over my breasts. “Put it here.”
Thick white spurts shot from his cock onto my chest, and I rubbed it all over my breasts while he watched, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. The sight of him losing control pushed me over the edge, and my cries echoed off the tiles as my orgasm rocketed through me, my entire body clenching up before easing itself with rhythmic spasms beneath my fingers.
It took us a minute to calm down.
“Jesus.” Miles breathed hard, still braced on the wall. “Who the hell are you?”
I smiled slyly and brought my knees together, hands clasped on top. “The girl next door.”
“You think you know someone.” He sh
ook his head, water dripping off his dark locks.
“You know what?” I stood up, rinsed off, and we wrapped our arms around each other’s waists. “You do know me, Miles. I think you knew me better than I knew myself. I don’t exactly know how, since we haven’t even seen each other much at all in the last few years, but you did. You do.”
“I don’t exactly know how, either. Just seems like it’s always been that way with us.” He rested his forehead against mine. “We’ve always had a connection.”
A shiver moved through me. “Yes.”
He pulled me closer, tucking my head beneath his chin, and turning me so the shower hit us both on the side. “Cold?”
“Just for a second there. I’m fine.” But I hadn’t been cold at all. I’d been moved by his words.
And a little bit frightened.
Because he was right—we did have a connection and we always had. What was left unsaid was that we always would. I felt it. But what would that mean when our three days were up and I went back to my real life? Yes, I was enjoying my newfound sexual freedom, but eventually I wanted something more lasting, didn’t I?
Breaking up with Dan had been the right decision—I had no doubt about that. But I hadn’t changed that much… Once my taste of freedom was complete, I saw myself wanting to be part of a couple again. Wanting to belong to someone. Wanting to fall in love. Those things made me happy.
But Miles didn’t want those things, and it would be wrong of me to try to change him. He loved me in his own way, and I loved him, but he loved his freedom more. I didn’t want him to resent me for asking him to be something he’s not.
Happy Crazy Love Boxed Set Page 38
