My Uptown Girl

by C. Morgan

  “I suppose I was, but not in the sense they gave me everything I wanted. They believed in working hard for what you wanted. My dad would love to give me everything, but my mom, believe it or not, was the one that insisted he keep it under control.”

  I wasn’t sure what to think about all of that. She had the perfect family. I didn’t want to ask her about the family wealth. Once I knew, I would know and there was no going back.

  “Can I help with anything?” I asked instead. The sound of meat sizzling in a pan was making me even hungrier.

  “You can look for another box labeled dishes,” she said with a laugh. “I really didn’t think this dinner thing through. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invite you over and have you unpack for me.”

  “I don’t mind,” I said and moved around, reading the handwriting on each of the boxes. I didn’t want to criticize her moving skills, but I had a thing about kitchen boxes going in the kitchen and bedroom in the bedroom and so on.

  I found the box and carried it into the kitchen.

  “Woohoo! You found them!”

  “Where do you want them?” I asked.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to.”

  She looked around the kitchen and pointed to a cupboard. I grabbed a dish towel and wiped down each plate before I put it in the cupboard. She was smiling as she cooked. Ten minutes later, we were sitting at her dining table that was a shade better than my own.

  I picked up my knife and fork, remembering my manners, and sliced into the juicy steak. I popped a bite in my mouth and moaned. “So good.”

  Her face lit up. “Is it?”

  “You know it is. The butter is amazing.”

  I couldn’t remember ever eating a steak that tasted so good. I was in heaven.

  “Thank you. Steaks can be very tricky, which is why I’m hesitant to put them on the menu. One bad steak and it’s all over.”

  “So again, why don’t you cook the steaks?” I suggested.

  “Well, that would be difficult to be in the kitchen and out front at the same time.”

  We ate our dinner. I savored every morsel. She was a damn good cook. I couldn’t believe she thought she was just okay.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t make dessert,” she said.

  I leaned back in the chair. “I’m not.”

  “What?”

  “If you made dessert, I would never move again. The dinner was very good. I knew it would be. You really could be a chef.”

  “Thank you. Maybe down the road I will give it a try.”

  She got to her feet, taking my empty plate into the small kitchen. I collected some of the other dishes and carried them in. She was rinsing the dishes and then stacking them on the counter.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to put those in the dishwasher?”

  “If the dishwasher worked, yes.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “The landlord told me it was broken and he would get to work on it soon.”

  “I could probably fix it,” I offered.

  “Not tonight,” she said. “You are here as my guest. I didn’t invite you here to fix my dishwasher.”

  “I’m pretty handy with my hands,” I told her.

  Her eyes flashed before she turned her attention to the sink. “I’m just going to soak these.”

  “I’ll do them.”

  “No!”

  “You made me a meal. A very good meal. The least I can do is wash a few dishes.”

  She laughed. “You wash dishes?”

  “I have a dishwasher, but I have washed dishes in the past.”

  “All right, let’s do this.”

  “You have a seat. I’ll do it.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. We’ll do it together.”

  While she filled the sink with water, I collected the dishes scattered about the kitchen counter. She was a great cook but not such a clean cook. “Should I wash or dry?”

  “You can dry,” she said with a laugh. “I still can’t believe you are doing my dishes.”

  “I used the dishes. You cooked. I clean up.”

  “Is that how it was in your house?”

  “Most of the time.”

  “I bet your dad worked long hours.”

  “He did.”

  “Do you?” she asked, putting washed plates into the sink.

  I rinsed them before putting them in the rack. “I do.”

  “You’re a man of few words,” she said with another soft laugh.

  “I find people talk too much. We don’t need all the words.”

  “It’s how we communicate. It’s how we know what someone else is thinking or feeling.”

  I put the next dish into the rack. “I don’t think you have to use words to express feeling.”

  She paused and turned to look at me. “No?”

  I held her gaze. “No. Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”

  She licked her lower lip. “I don’t think so.”

  “I think you do.”

  Her lips parted as she sucked in a breath. She knew. I dried my hands on the towel in my hand and reached for her. One hand went to the back of her neck, giving her one chance to deny me. She knew what I wanted.

  When her gaze dropped to my lips, I made my move. My mouth covered hers. I wasn’t gentle or tender. I used pressure to make her mouth open wide and plunged my tongue inside. I didn’t much care for the gentle approach. I had been called a bull in a China shop more than once.

  My other hand went to her hip, pulling her body against mine while my mouth worked over hers. I could taste the Jack and wanted more.

  Chapter 14

  Amara

  Oh mercy. Mercy, mercy, mercy. My insides were melting. The man could kiss. I wasn’t surprised. His full lips were perfect for kissing. His tongue, powerful and strong like the man.

  My body felt like it was going up in flames. His fingertips dug into the flesh on my hip, holding me close against him. I could feel the erection growing and hoped like hell whatever was happening ended with that inside me.

  I didn’t care that it was a first date. Not a date. Dinner. I didn’t care. This man was the kind of man you took the chance with if it ever came along. My chance was here, and I intended on jumping on it. And him.

  My mouth opened wider, making room for his lashing tongue to move inside. My hand reached up, running my fingers through his hair while holding his face smashed against mine. My other did a little roaming. First, I ran my hand over the biceps that had been begging to be squeezed. Then it was over his ribcage and, last, to his ass. I squeezed a handful and held him against my body while I ground my hips against him.

  I wanted to climb him. I lifted my leg a little, rubbing myself against the erection straining in his jeans. He got the hint. His hand dropped from my hair, joining his other as his fingers jerked open the button of my jeans before sliding the zipper down. He didn’t stop. His hands pushed my jeans down, hooking my panties under his thumbs and pushing them down as well.

  I didn’t have time to consider the fact I was naked from the waist down. He lifted me and dropped my bare ass on my kitchen counter. “Open your legs,” he demanded.

  I did as he asked. No hesitation. His hand slid up my thigh, and with no warning, his finger plunged inside me. I gasped, the invasion shocking me. “Oh god!”

  “You’re wet,” he growled in an accusing way. “This is for me.”

  I couldn’t answer. His finger was working inside me, sliding out and circling my clit before pushing back in. “Yes,” I whispered. “You.”

  “I want you to come,” he whispered before dropping his mouth to my neck.

  I didn’t think I would survive it if I did. Like a fool, I fought against the orgasm building inside me. It was going to be too powerful. I didn’t want him to know he had me primed and ready from the very moment I first laid eyes on him. It was an orgasm over a month in the making.

  “Wait,” I gasped, the word slipping out.

/>   “Don’t wait. I’ll make you come again. I want to feel your juices on my fingers.”

  A second finger worked inside me and his wish was granted. I cried out, my body bowing, inadvertently sliding forward on the counter and taking his fingers deeper inside me. “Oh god,” I moaned as my body exploded.

  “That’s it. More, baby. Give me more.”

  If I gave him more, I was certain I would pass out. His fingers disappeared, leaving me feeling like an empty shell. I slumped forward, my hands resting on his shoulders. He was busy stripping off his own jeans. When the underwear and jeans hit the floor and his erection peeked out from under his shirt, I had second thoughts. I scooted back a bit on the counter.

  “Where are you going?” he hissed as he pulled me back to the edge. “Touch me,” he ordered before grabbing my hand and putting it on his thick cock.

  I groaned with pleasure, wrapping my fingers around his steel shaft. I slowly moved my hand up and down, mimicking what I wanted him to do to me. “Okay,” I heard myself say. Again, it had been a thought that passed through my lips without thinking.

  “Okay?” he growled. “Okay?”

  I looked into his eyes and saw something feral. Something primal. “I mean, okay, I’m ready. Fuck me.”

  His nostrils flared, his hand going to the back of my neck as he held me in his grip and kissed me once again. I tumbled into that sweet place of pleasure he had taken me to with the first kiss. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him close. Need pumped through my veins. I dropped my hand and reached for his cock. If he wasn’t going to put it inside me, I would do it my damn self.

  He slapped my hand away as he pulled his mouth from mine. “Not yet.”

  “But I need it.”

  “And you’re going to have every last inch, but not yet.”

  He reached for the hem of my shirt and jerked it up. I barely had time to put my arms in the air as he whipped it over my head. He dropped it on the floor while his gaze locked on my breasts. I was so glad I wore the sexy bra. In a flash, my bra was off, and I was naked on my kitchen counter. I couldn’t let myself get hung up on that.

  The way he was looking at me, like I was a piece of meat to be savored and enjoyed, made me shudder with pure excitement. His hand reached for my breast and squeezed. He groaned, his eyes closing before he leaned forward and kissed one nipple and then the other.

  “I can’t,” he said through gritted teeth.

  I blinked through the haze of lust he had put me in. “What?” I asked, suddenly terrified he wasn’t going to fuck me.

  “Next time. I have to be inside you.”

  I eagerly nodded. “Yes.”

  I figured since I was buck naked, I wanted him naked. With shaking hands, I reached for the hem of his shirt and very clumsily tried to lift it over his head. I managed to get it halfway and he did the rest. It was my turn to close my eyes. His chest and flat stomach were too good to be true. I wanted to savor every inch of his tanned torso, but like he said, next time. There was a more pressing need at hand.

  I opened my legs and reached for him once again. He wrapped one arm around my waist and held on tight while he pushed himself inside me. I winced once, adjusting myself on the counter to make things a little easier.

  “Fuck me,” he groaned. “So tight.”

  “Don’t stop,” I gasped when the head of his cock finally breached me. “More.”

  He pushed inside me, taking it slowly as my body stretched to take his girth. “God dammit,” he hissed. “You’re going to make me explode before I can even get inside you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whimpered, desire making me feel dizzy.

  “Stop squeezing me,” he growled.

  “I can’t help it,” I answered. My body felt like a flower opening for the sun.

  He pushed himself all the way inside, moving once to pull me closer to the edge. That one tiny fraction of a move was all I needed. I heard myself cry out as the orgasm tore through my body. Every nerve was focused between my legs where his cock was buried deep inside me. I arched and spasmed as he held on steady as a rock.

  I opened my eyes and found him staring at me. He looked surprised and pleased and very turned on. “Ready?” he ground out the word. “I haven’t even started yet.”

  A slow, satisfied smile spread over my lips. “I think so. Do your best.”

  The words were equivalent to waving a red flag in front of a bull. His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched as he began to move inside me. It was just small little bursts of energy at first, like he was trying to find the best angle. I didn’t care what angle he worked. It was all good. Too good. I just knew I was going to have another orgasm.

  I ran my fingernails down his back. I felt him jerk, his cock growing inside me, and knew he liked it. I did it again, applying more pressure as I encouraged him to move faster. “Like that,” I whispered. “More.”

  He grunted, pounding inside me over and over while my nails scored his back and his shoulders. His mouth covered mine as he fucked me. He was a talented man. His tongue dueled with mine as his hips kept up their steady rhythm. In and out, in and out, until I was holding on to him for dear life.

  His movements became more purposeful as he rushed toward that final finish. I was right there with him. Every scrape of his cock took me higher. I held on, not knowing what to expect but knowing it was going to be explosive. He violently jerked once, then twice, shouting out something incoherent. I barely heard him. It sounded like the ocean was in my ears. My body arched. I would have fallen flat on my back if his strong arm wasn’t wrapped around me, anchoring me to his body. I heard a low keening sound and couldn’t be certain if it was coming from me or him.

  “Fuck!” he shouted, his body spasming and jerking as the orgasm stretched on for nearly a minute. We were helpless to control our bodies.

  His mouth covered mine once again before he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine. I was smiling. It wasn’t voluntary. My body felt so good and sated, a smile just felt natural. He kissed my forehead before stepping back. His hands rested on my waist before hoisting me off the counter.

  “Well, this was an interesting dinner,” I said for lack of anything better to say.

  He chuckled, pulling on his underwear. “I think I like having dinner with you.”

  He stepped to me, pulling me into his arms while wearing just his underwear. His body was hot, covered in a fine sheen of perspiration that was dangerously sexy. I allowed myself to savor his strength for a few seconds before pulling away.

  “It was nice.”

  “What would be really nice was some dessert,” he said, looking down at my bare breasts.

  I laughed, pulling on my shirt and not bothering with my bra. “We are going to have to take a raincheck on dessert. I have an early morning tomorrow.”

  He nodded, understanding my meaning, and continued to dress. “You just let me know when you’d like to get dessert. I’ll be around. You have my number and you know where I work.”

  He gave me another searing kiss that made me a little weak in the knees. “I do and I will.”

  “Thanks for dinner,” he said and walked out the door.

  I couldn’t move for several long seconds. That was one hell of a sexual encounter. Never had I ever had three orgasms in one round. My body felt like limp noodles. I picked up my bra and carried it to my bedroom. The man was good. So damn good. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him.

  I wasn’t a feminist, but I didn’t think I liked being bossed around and dominated by a man. Until him. He could tell me to do just about anything in the bedroom, kitchen, or wherever, and I was pretty sure I would eagerly do it. Little spasms were still coursing through my body. I took a step and the friction reignited the feeling of him being buried inside me.

  “Holy shit,” I breathed when I walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light. I looked like a woman who’d just gotten rode hard and put away wet. My hair was mussed, my lips were red and puffy, and I
could see a faint hickey on my neck. My cheeks were red from the stubble on his face. I was a hot mess but never had I felt so good.

  Chapter 15

  Fulton

  It was a good day. Good wasn’t quite right. It was going to be a great day. Even though I got very little sleep, I felt good. How could I not? Being inside her body was like sliding into heaven. I wasn’t much of a spiritual man, but I swore I heard the angels sing when I emptied myself into her. I closed my eyes, reliving the moment over and over. I wanted her again. And again, and again. Damn if she didn’t crawl under my skin and plant herself. I woke up this morning with her smell clinging to me. If I concentrated really hard, I could practically taste her.

  I couldn’t fantasize about her while I was working. If my head wasn’t in the game, I could get myself or Stanley killed. I did my best to push all thoughts of Amara from my mind. I parked my truck and headed down the dock toward my boat. I wasn’t whistling, but damn, I felt like it. I knew I looked like a man that got laid. I had gotten laid and then some. Fucking her had been amazing. I wasn’t going to dwell on the fact she practically kicked me out after we had sex. That wasn’t a big deal. I was confident I would have her again. I knew she enjoyed herself. She would want me again. I would bide my time and wait for her to come to me.

  She better not make me wait too long. I wasn’t a patient man.

  I heard Stanley talking. Not talking, almost yelling. He was scolding someone. I picked up the pace. If someone was fucking with my boat, I would happily take them down. “What’s going on?” I asked him, bristling for a fight.

  My eyes scanned the area. There was no one around.

  “Hey, you’re here. You’re late.”

  “I’m not late. Who are you talking to?”

  “Not a who. It’s a them.”

  I studied his face, trying to determine if he was sober. He looked sober. “Who is them?”

  “Those little bastards,” he said, gesturing at the water.

  I stepped closer and looked over the edge. I saw a small school of fish. “The fish?”