by Nicole Dykes
“This party is fucking boring, and you look like a halfway decent time,” I said back. And I meant it. He looks like he can fuck.
“You can’t handle me.” That was his warning. His warning that made my panties fucking wet. I was on the hook after that, wanting him to destroy me in the best way, barely able to wait until we got to my place.
“I’m not scared.” And I wasn’t, not at all. I was excited.
“I won’t stay,” he said. And of course, that only got me hotter. I’m not looking for anything serious. I don’t want love. I want a dirty, hot fuck.
“I won’t ask you to,” I assured him because I won’t.
“I won’t call,” he said, again trying to scare me away.
“I won’t even give you my number,” I’d answered because why would I? I don’t plan to ever see him again.
He told me to lead the way as if that was exactly what he fucking wanted. And now we’re standing here, both fully clothed, and he won’t let me touch him.
I stand before him, studying his handsome face, dying to see what he has under his tux. Melody says I'm like a guy when it comes to sex, always wanting it and not afraid to make that known. But I say I'm just a woman with a healthy sex drive who isn’t afraid of that. Who the hell decided guys were the only ones who could like sex?
“Look, I promise I can make it feel good.” My hands start toward his thick chest, but he steps back again, looking wounded. Again, I gape at him in astonishment. “So, we came back here to fuck, but I can’t touch you?”
“I don’t remember ever saying we were going to fuck.”
“It was definitely implied.” I’m not the crazy one, right? He looks tortured as he looks at me in my golden gown.
I sigh, and maybe I've figured it out. “Look, you don’t have to do this to prove anything. You really don’t.”
His eyes meet mine, confusion in them. “What are you talking about?”
“Let me guess, your father was a really macho, tough guy type. He would never accept his son being gay. God forbid you like to fuck men, right?”
He stares at me, brow furrowed. “No.”
Not really a talker, this one. But it makes sense. I get it. He’s beautiful, almost too pretty for a guy, but I think he’s ashamed of that. He wants to be ugly. He’s quiet because he has a secret, one that shouldn’t be a big deal. But because of his father, he hides it. “I understand, Rhys. Fuck him. He can’t dictate who you fuck. You don’t need to stick your dick in a copious number of women just trying to prove to daddy that you’re not gay.”
Again. No fucking words. It’s maddening.
“My touch repulses you because my hand is attached to a body with tits.”
“That’s not it.”
“It’s really okay . . .”
“Jesus, fuck. Stop talking.” Again, I should probably be a little afraid, but I just stand, arms crossed, one foot in front of the other and wait for an explanation. His tattooed hand slides over his face, looking pained. “I wish I was into dudes. They talk less.”
I glare at him and then let my eyes slide down lower, down to the crotch of his black tuxedo pants. “Is it a dick problem? Like deformed or something? Uncut?”
“What?”
I shrug. “I don’t mind that, I guess. I’ve only seen one.”
“What the fuck?” When I look up, I see he looks horrified again. “You just asked if I'm not circumcised?”
He’s wound so damn tight. “Yeah, I mean the one I did see . . . the guy was really self-conscious about it.”
“I’m cut.”
My eyes drop back down. “Small?” I lift my eyes back up to his. “Because that’s fine too.” I try to hide my laugh, but I swear I'm serious. “As long as you know how to use it.”
“Fuck. You’re talking again.”
“Well, we aren’t fucking.”
He takes another step, but this time it’s closer to me instead of further away. “Is that what will shut you up?”
I bite my bottom lip, my heart racing from his presence. “Yes.” I step closer but don’t touch him yet. “Tell me what you like, Rhys.”
“Quiet.”
“Hmmm . . .” I turn away from him and point to my zipper. “I’m kind of a screamer.”
I’m surprised when he takes the hint and lowers the zipper to the top of my ass, dragging it down slowly but not lingering once it reaches the end. I slip one arm out of the gown and then the other. I’m not wearing anything underneath. It’s too form fitting for that.
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
I lower the gown to my waist and cover my breasts, turning back around to face him. His eyes don’t drop down to my chest like I would expect. “So, I can’t touch you?”
“No,” he growls simply, his voice dripping with sex and sin.
I drop my hands to the dress bunched at my waist and finally his eyes drag down, looking at my tits but not saying a word. Still, I see it there now.
Desire.
I shimmy out of the dress, leaving myself completely bare for him with the exception of my designer heels as I kick the fabric away. “But can you touch me?”
“I don’t know.” It’s sheer torment. Not just for me. I can hear it in his voice. Uncertainty. Like he isn’t sure if he can.
I take his wrist cautiously, and he starts to jerk away, but I hold on and place his hand on my left breast. I let go of him but can feel the weight of his hand on my skin. “Not so bad, right?”
HIs other hand reaches up, cupping my other breast as I bite my lip trying not to make a sound. It’s strange, but I don’t want to spook him.
I’m used to hearing how beautiful I am and how great my tits are. They are pretty great but paid for. I’m accustomed to guys telling me what they want to do to me. What they want me to do to them. Admiration and lust. But Rhys doesn’t say a word.
His thumbs circle over my hardened nipples, and my breasts are rising and falling with my rapid breathing.
I have no idea what it is about this man, but his touch doesn’t leave me bored or empty. I want more, crave it even.
“Touch me, Rhys,” I whisper softly.
His eyes meet mine, and I try to move forward for a kiss, but he shakes his head in a warning, making me groan with need.
Then he drops to his knees, his hands on my ass, and I look down at the beautiful man before me.
He doesn’t lock eyes with me. Instead his eyes are locked between my legs, staring at me. There.
I gasp, and my head falls back when I feel his tongue make contact with my wet slit, dragging slowly up to my clit. “Oh my God.”
His fingers dig into my ass, adding to the pleasure of his mouth. His tongue swirls over my clit at an almost punishing rate. He’s not taking his time with me.
Does he just want it to be over?
My hands grasp his shoulders, and he winces, pulling away from me, and I groan as I realize my mistake.
I hold my hands up as I look down at him. “Sorry. I won’t touch.” There’s a little sarcasm in my tone, but he doesn’t care. He resumes licking my pussy, focusing mostly on my clit, not letting up.
I keep my hands off him even though I'm dying to touch him, to know what’s under that tux, to strip him bare and find out what he’s hiding.
Scars?
Maybe.
I wouldn’t give a fuck with a tongue like this. “Oh God, Rhys,” I gasp, my body flying toward an intense orgasm.
I want my fingers in his hair. I want to grasp the strands and pull, but I don’t. I don’t want this to end.
I’m so fucking close and settle on cupping my own breasts in my hands, pinching my nipples and adding to the pleasure this mystery man is giving me.
“Fuck! Rhys, right there.” As if he doesn’t already know. He’s been focusing on the right spot the entire time.
He doesn’t fuck around.
I come, and I mean hard, my hands gripping my breasts with punishing pressure, knowing I can’t touch him.
He lap
s at me, giving me every last drop of pleasure before he stands up and takes a step back, wiping his mouth.
I move toward him, pressing my breasts against his chest. He hisses but doesn’t push me away. “Let me touch you.” I can’t believe how desperate I sound.
My hands slide over his sides, and he doesn’t pull away, but he does close his eyes like he’s in pain.
He’s breathing heavily, but I don’t think it’s because he’s turned-on. I press my lips to his throat, kissing and sucking, trying to get him to stay here with me, trying to get him to let go. But suddenly his fingers dig into my arms, and he moves my body away from his.
He doesn’t say a word while I stare at him.
Instead he turns away from me, moving to the door, opening it, and walking out. He closes the door behind him, and I stand there, naked and alone.
Wondering what the fuck just happened.
Blair.
Jesus Christ. Does she ever leave anything to the imagination?
Of course, since I saw her completely naked the first time I met her, I can close my eyes and see every inch of her anytime I want.
Her body is as close to perfection as you can get.
Long tan legs only made more perfect by the high heels she’s wearing. The backless dress hits above the middle of her thigh and hugs the curve of her perfectly round ass. Her hips are flared, but her waist is tiny. Her tits are full, almost too big for her frame, and the dress doesn’t hide them. It dips low and is sleeveless, showing off her smooth tan arms.
Her long blond hair is down, falling to the top of her breasts. Her makeup so flawless, you’d swear she wasn’t wearing any.
A living, breathing Barbie doll. Except this one has a serious bite along with her beauty. She’ll rip your balls off and keep them as a trophy.
I should know.
“You’re staring.” Fuck. I turn to look at Sean whose bright white smile is blinding.
I just grunt, tired of explaining. “Where’s your wife?”
He nods his head toward a group of women at this “party.” A party with no alcohol because those who can drink are outnumbered by children and addicts.
“You’re really leaving?”
He nods once, but I see how certain he is. “Yup. Come with us.”
He knows I won’t. “Can’t. I just got my own shop.”
He looks shocked but thrilled. “What? You motherfucker. You’re just now telling me?”
“I just found out. I leave tomorrow.”
He laughs, and it’s fucking joyous and almost contagious, but I don’t laugh. “That’s so great, man.” He slaps an arm around me, and I flinch, but not enough to make him move his arm. He’s the only one who gets away with it. “Look at us.”
Quinn and Logan walk to us, joining us, and I smile when I see Quinn’s belly has started to swell. He knocked her up.
And they couldn’t be happier. They flew in this morning and fly out tonight. Their home is in Nashville where Chris gave Logan his own shop and a start.
“Hey, mama. Can’t believe you let this guy put a baby in you,” Sean says as he grabs her for a hug. She smiles wide and bright, beaming.
Sean and Logan shake hands. Old friends.
All four of us come from the same background. They all got out. They’re all happy.
Which is as close to happiness as I’ll ever come, but it’s good enough for me. Quinn stands in front of me, offering a smaller smile. She doesn’t touch me even though I would let her.
“Hey, Rhys.”
“Hi, Quinn.” I thought she was my one chance at happiness. I thought maybe dating her could free me from all the shit, make me forget. But it wasn’t meant to be. She’s always loved Logan. She never loved me.
“You look good.”
“You look better.” She smiles, and Logan wraps an arm around her. I don’t hate him anymore. The better man won. I treated her like shit when we were together, and he treats her like something precious that he should protect.
The way I should have.
“Blair’s here?” Logan seems surprised.
“Melody is her best friend,” I say, not sure why he thought she wouldn’t be.
He nods his head, shrugging. “I thought she was moving.”
I feel a tug inside my chest with that information but try to keep my cool. “Blair’s moving?” I turn to Sean. “With you?”
“Fuck no.” He shakes his head emphatically, still not a huge fan of Blair, and the feeling is mutual.
“No, she’s going to St. Louis.”
I’m pretty sure my jaw just dropped, and I hate showing any emotion, but it makes Quinn smirk. “St. Louis?”
She nods, watching me with amusement. “Yeah. She’s going to run her dad’s company there. It’s a sister company to the one here in K.C., but apparently, it’s having some issues.”
I hate how close they are now. You would think Quinn would fucking hate Blair. I mean, Blair used to fuck Logan. But no, they’re best fucking friends.
She’s moving to St. Louis. I look across the room, catching her glare. She’s definitely still pissed-off at me.
Good.
“Well, fuck. Life has more jokes.”
They all look at each other, and then I feel three pairs of eyes on me. It’s Sean who connects the dots and bursts out in laughter. “Oh, fuck. Your new shop is in St. Louis?”
“Keep laughing, motherfucker.”
“Oh, I am.” And he does, which makes Quinn and Logan laugh in confusion.
Quinn’s eyes meet mine. “You got a shop?”
“Yeah. In St. Fucking Louis.”
Now Quinn and Logan are cracking up along with Sean, and I raise both middle fingers, leaving the fucking laughing hyenas behind.
I can still hear them laughing.
Fuckers.
God, he looks good.
The asshole.
It’s not fair.
He’s not in a tux or even a suit. Apparently he dressed in the bare minimum to get into the country club. A pair of khakis and a polo. The polo hugs his massive biceps and shows off the full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm and the tattoo on his bicep on his left.
He’s solid muscle covering broody angst.
I hate that my body craves a taste of him.
I finally pull my gaze away from Rhys when I see Mel approaching me, dressed in pink, her innocent face made up sweetly. And that really is what Melody is. Innocent.
We may both be blond, rich bitches, but she’s my opposite.
Believes in love. Wants the best for her friends and family. So fucking forgiving and kind.
It would make me sick if she wasn’t like a sister to me. And okay, yeah, sometimes it still does even though I would gladly commit murder for her.
“I’m so happy you’re here!” she squeals as she gives me a big hug.
“Bitch, like I would miss it.”
“You’re a little late though.”
Yeah, I’m super late. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to face the fact that one of my best friends is leaving. I don’t know how to deal. But I finally got my ass dressed and showed up. “I’m sorry, Mel.”
She’s still smiling brightly. “It’s okay. You sure you won’t come with me?”
I shake my head from side to side. “I don’t think I have the patience for New York. I’d probably kill someone.”
She laughs, so fucking used to my attitude. “Probably.”
“Besides, my dad transferred me to his St. Louis office, so I’m moving there in a few days.”
Her jaw drops, and again, she looks so pure and innocent, easy prey for the wolves. Which is exactly what Sean was at first, but I guess they’re happy now.
So, I guess I'm happy for them. I am happy for them, but I'm still watching him. I trust no one.
“You didn’t say anything.”
“You’ve had a lot going on. And besides, I only found out a few days ago.” When my father told me exactly what was going to happen.
“Are you excited?” She would be. Melody loves any change. It’s an adventure for her. Me? Not so much.
I shrug. “It is what it is. It’s pretty much Kansas City anyway. They’re sister cities.”
She nods her head just as Quinn, Logan, and Sean join us. I’m not sure where Rhys went. Sean wraps an arm around her. “We have to get going. Don’t want to miss our flight.”
She gazes up at him, so fucking happy. And then she sighs, looking at me. “I’m going to miss the hell out of you.”
I hug her tightly. They’re all riding to the airport together.
There’s officially nothing left for me in Kansas City. “I’m going to miss you too. Call me. Stay safe. And if anyone needs their balls removed, I'll be on the next flight.”
I eye Sean, who playfully shivers as Mel squeezes me tighter before finally letting me go. I give Sean a hug and whisper in his ear, “You know I'm talking about you.”
He nods easily, brushing it off. “I won’t ever hurt her.”
“Again,” I add because I’m a bitch.
“Again.” He smiles and then guides his wife toward the car. I give Logan and Quinn quick hugs before they make the rounds and leave.
The party goes on, but all I see is Rhys, who is still here.
And I know why.
I’m not in the mood to celebrate losing my best friend to New York. I’m not in the mood to mingle and make small talk.
But I am in the mood for him.
Two years ago
“Hey, kid.” I look up from my sketchbook, alone in the breakroom and see Jay’s big ass crowding the door frame. “Customer is asking for you.”
He wags his eyebrows at me so I know it’s a chick. And a hot one.
He’s always trying to get me laid. Which is annoying. And kinda creepy. But the guy means well.
I climb up from the couch and walk to the main area, instantly seeing Blair.
No. Fuck.
The last time I saw her she was naked and flushed from the orgasm I’d just given her, but I didn’t fuck her like she wanted. That was almost a month ago.
I felt like a freak, staring at her naked body and unable to let her touch me.
My entire body is tense as I approach her. Damn, she looks good. Way too good.
