Neither This Nor That Box Set 1

by MariaLisa deMora

  Pitching his voice low, creating a feeling of intimacy, he leaned closer and repeated her name, letting it drip off his lips like honey. “Crissy.” A slow breath in, and he saw he’d captured her attention, her gaze locked on his mouth. Awww, yeah. “Beautiful.” A smile curved her lips, and she turned her head to try and hide it. Shy, sweet, cute, and fucking hella sexy. Po’Boy heard his phone buzz with an incoming message from the app. Without shifting his gaze, he reached out and grabbed the phone, thumbing the button to silence it as he shoved it deep into the front pocket of his jeans.

  Three hours later he knew a lot about Miss Christine “Crissy” Emmerson. She was twenty-six years old, recently moved home to Louisiana after a stint away at college and then helping care for her dying sister. She was working a new job she loved, adored her niece to distraction and missed her terribly, seeing as the little girl was in Minnesota. He also knew Crissy was a lightweight and didn’t know it, and the woman was into Po’Boy in a big way.

  He hadn’t set out to get her drunk. That had been the furthest thing from his mind actually, because other than passarounds at an MC party sometimes, he didn’t fuck drunks. Never down here in New Orleans. Not even once, because consensual was the only way to rock his normal encounters. Drunk dudes couldn’t get it up, or couldn’t manage to keep it up long enough to work for him, and drunk women made bad decisions.

  Crissy was quiet. So quiet he had to work to pull things out of her at first. So quiet it had masked the level of inebriation very well for a while. Too well. It wasn’t until she had started talking freely he realized it was alcohol making her mouth loose. He still hadn’t realized just how drunk she was until she abruptly slid off her stool and stood, weaving, the strap of her bag falling to the floor unnoticed as she announced, “I need to piddle.”

  Piddle. Fucking cute.

  He bent, grabbed her bag, threw some money on the bar and gave Joey a tip of his chin as he escorted Crissy towards the back of the bar. In the short hallway outside the women’s room, he stood and stared, considering her. Too drunk to manage on her own. Shoving the door open, he led her into the little room, glad it wasn’t a communal facility. “You do your thing, honey. I’ll just make sure you don’t fall.”

  “You’re so nice.” Even now it was hard to hear the level of drunkenness in her voice. She wasn’t slurring, wasn’t stumbling over her words. They were soft and sweet, and she stared up at him with wide eyes, blinking slowly. “And pretty. You’re very pretty.”

  “Yeah, every guy likes to be told he’s pretty. Thanks, Crissy.” He waited. “I thought you had to pee?”

  “False alarm.” Her open-mouthed grin gave him a glimpse of her tongue, trapped behind her pretty, pink lips. “I should go home, huh?”

  “Did you take a cab from Slidell this morning?” She shook her head. “You drove?” A nod. Fuck. “Honey, you got any friends in town you can stay with?” She shook her head again. “Nobody? No coworker you can call?”

  Her voice was hushed when she whispered, “There’s so many of them. I don’t know who to trust. One wrong step and blooey. New jobs suck balls.”

  He could relate. Trust was hard in most situations. That was why earned trust was so precious. “If I send you home in a cab, can you get back here to get your car?”

  Her brow wrinkled as she considered his question. “Are we in a bathroom?”

  “Crissy, focus, honey. If I send you home in a cab, can you get back here to retrieve your car?”

  She looked around. “It’s a nice bathroom.”

  “And that would be a no. Got it. There’s a hotel near here, what if I drop you there, get you a room?” Crissy made a face. “Do you have money to cover a night in the hotel, honey?” She shook her head. Not surprising if she hadn’t worked for a long time, and then had the expenses of moving and setting up house while starting a new job. A lotta dough went into that kind of change. “Then I guess you’re stuck with me.”

  “How am I stuck with you?” She looked around again, and her face paled. “Are we locked in?” Lunging at the door, she pounded on it with her palm. Her voice squeaked when she whisper-shouted, “Help!”

  “Jesus,” he grunted as he captured her arms down at her sides, pulling her back against him, his dick liking the close contact more than it should. “Crissy, stop it. We’re not locked in. I’m going to take you to my place, okay?”

  “Okie day.” Head tipped to the side and looking up trustingly, she smiled at him, her open expression sweet. “You’re a nice man, Lewis.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m a fuckin’ peach.”

  He steered her out the door and then through the bar, holding her close to his side to help mask her more obvious staggers. The two blocks to his building went past uneventfully. Wrapping his arm around her tighter, he pulled her against his front as he worked the keycard, and was unprepared when she looped her arms around his neck, rolling far up on her toes to press her lips against his. He tasted her, a mix of sweet fruit, liqueur, and something undefinable, something he wanted more of. A lot more. Bending deep, he leaned her over his arm and took her mouth, thrusting inside to stroke against her tongue, eating down her moans, aware he was making similar sounds, going from nice guy to a fucking sex monster in the space of a kiss.

  He heard her sobbing, heard her whispered “Please,” and thought it was a plea for him to stop. Po’Boy tried to pull back and sucked in air as she clung to him, leg hooked around his hip, open to him in a way that was invitation and demand rolled into one. That single breath brought him back to his senses, made him realize where he was, and what he wouldn’t do because this woman was not sober. She might be horny, but not straight in her head, which was the only way it would work for him.

  After running his keycard through the reader, he swept her into his arms and took her into the building and up the elevator. Once in his suite, he unwound her arms from around his neck and lay her gently on the bed. “Please.” Her whisper was soft and vibrating with need. As he straightened, he watched her hips undulate side to side, movements as unconscious as breathing. “Please love me.” Her eyes were closed, mouth slightly open so her tongue could sweep along the curve of her bottom lip. “Please love me.”

  She’s fucking drunk, he reminded himself and then lost the train of thought when her fingers tugged at the hem of her skirt, dragging it up and up her thighs. Her hand darted underneath the fabric, and he had a clear view of her sheer, black panties, then her fingers were underneath that material, too, and he watched as she worked herself by turns hard and fast, and slowly caressing, her moans and sighs a musical torture to hear.

  Hands fisted at his sides, he restlessly shifted from foot to foot, eagerly watching every movement. He could smell her arousal, could hear the wet sounds of her fingers moving, see the shifting of the fabric. His cock ached, and when he clenched his ass, he got a zap of desire straight up his spine. “Fuck it,” he muttered, and unfastened his pants, shoving them down and out of the way. He wouldn’t take advantage, but didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the show. One hand wrapped around his dick and stroking hard, the other cupping and tugging on his sac. His dick was weeping, and he used the slick fluid to lubricate his hand, thrusting through his clenched fist.

  He must have made a noise because Crissy’s eyes opened and as she stared up at him her fingers worked faster, frantically pushing towards orgasm, raw and needy sounds pouring from her throat. It only took him a dozen strokes to be there with her, and he caught his semen in his hand, palming the heat around the head of his cock. She whispered, “Lewis,” proving she at least knew who he was. Her hand had nearly stilled, moving lazily now, he imagined her fingers slipping unhurriedly through her folds like his palm slicked gently around and over the sensitive crown of his cock. She gradually slowed then stopped, and he glanced up to see her eyes were closed, face tipped slightly to the side. She was asleep.

  He reached out and grabbed a handful of tissues to clean up, every movement deliberate and thoughtful as his bre
athing slowly returned to normal. He stared for a long time then bent over her, getting close enough to feel the heat from her skin. Gently tugging her hand out of her panties, one at a time he sucked her fingers into his mouth, slowly wrapping his tongue around each, savoring, his first taste of her heady and sweet. Mmmm. Not enough. “Gonna be seeing a lot more of you, Miss Crissy.” Po’Boy straightened and stared down at her. “A lot more.”

  ***

  Crissy

  She woke when the form beside her stretched and groaned, something heavy moving and sliding across her upper chest, nearly a caress. Hot mouth nuzzling against her breast, her companion hummed and sighed, then stretched again, wrapping one long arm around her middle and pulling her close to his torso as if she were a favorite stuffed animal. Startled, she jerked her arms up and away from where they’d been cradling his head and shoulders, holding him against her.

  Eyes wide, ignoring the pounding in her head, she stared down at the man who lay half on her shoulder, half on her breast. She couldn’t see his face but heard him hum again as he nuzzled the fabric of her blouse. “So pretty,” he said, the word coming out mumbled and muffled, sounding more like “purdy” which was almost funny.

  Okay. Time to regroup. First to figure out what I did.

  Squeezing her eyes closed, she clawed through her memories, trying to find the right ones.

  A bar.

  She’d gone to a bar after closing a deal, the presentation happening at the client’s offices in downtown New Orleans. They’d loved the campaign she’d put together for their products, and her boss had been so pleased with the effort he’d given her the rest of the day off. She’d gone to a bar to celebrate, hoping a single drink would calm her buzzing nerves, still on fire with adrenaline from standing in front of a room full of judgmental clients, not quite believing they hadn’t kicked her out the door as a fraud.

  A drink.

  Her still-shaking fingers had betrayed her, dropping the ID demanded by the bartender. That had opened the door for the man next to her to strike up a conversation. Not a typical pick-up move, but he had seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her. She looked down at the head on her shoulder again, finding a name in her memories. “Lewis.” An answering hum told her he wasn’t sleeping, either. “Hi.”

  “Hey, doll baby.” His arm squeezed her, the touch somehow familiar and comforting. How? He’s a stranger. “How’s the head this morning?”

  “Pretty achy,” she admitted, still holding her arms awkwardly in the air, avoiding any unnecessary contact. Something which seemed silly to do when he was still nuzzling her breast, the scruff of his beard rough even through the fabric of her blouse. “You?” Stupidest conversation ever.

  “My big head’s fine, honey.” He drawled the words and then chuckled, the tone dark and knowing. “You can put your arms down, Crissy. This ain’t a stick up. Ain’t nothin’ up. I already dealt with my mornin’ wood, so there ain’t even a pup tent to be worried about.”

  Oh, Jesus.

  When she didn’t move, he rocked his head, shifting around so he could look up into her face. Whatever he saw there made him chuckle again, and she watched as his plump lips curved into a smile. “Relax, Crissy. Nothing happened except two people sharing the same bed to sleep.” His voice dipped an octave. “Not that you didn’t entice me, mmhmm. Nuh huh, believe you me, I am totally fucking enticed.” He reached up, fingers clasping loosely around one of her wrists, bringing her arm back down, resting her hand on her belly. He shifted to grip her other arm and drew it across so it settled comfortably around his shoulders. Once he had her arranged to his satisfaction, he sighed and draped his arm across her hips, his massive hand curling around her side and ass, fingers clamping down firmly as if to hold her in place. “Relax,” he said again. “It’s Saturday, and you said you didn’t have to work today. Lemme snuggle a lil’ bit. Least you can do, honey.”

  “The least I can do?” She hadn’t meant to say anything, hadn’t meant to ask anything, and certainly not in such a breathy voice, but the weight of him all along her side was something she liked. The way he held her possessively, as if he had a right to do so, she liked that, too. Her heart pounded fast, something she was certain he had to notice since his ear was directly over her chest.

  “Mmhmm. Yeah. You probably don’t remember last night at all, do you? Not a single thing?” His slyly worded question made her stomach clench, and fear roiled through her because she didn’t remember much. Nothing past a certain point at the bar, and not a bit of whatever journey had brought her here to his apartment. Deciding silence was her best option, she said nothing, and her silence made him chuckle again, rough and dark, the sound stroking along her skin to raise goose bumps everywhere. “You put on quite a show, doll face. You beg so pretty. So fuckin’ gorgeous, rolling those naughty words around in that pretty mouth of yours. I can’t wait to have you in a place where I can make everything you want happen.” He moved restlessly, fingers flexing and releasing in a pulsing pattern on her hip. “Give you everything you desire.” The fabric of her blouse shifted, and she realized he was plucking at it with his lips, each movement grazing across her taut nipple. “Begged me to love you. Made me watch you get yourself off. Hottest thing I’ve seen in a long time, Crissy. So letting me snuggle…least you can do.”

  Lips trapped between her teeth, she chewed for a moment, then whispered, “Oh.” Understatement much?

  “Yeah.” His voice rasped and something stirred along her thigh, heat radiating from a central point of growing pressure she realized was his hardening cock. “Oh.” His repeat of her word was sultry and hot, and blood rose to the surface of her skin, flushing hotly. “Now—” He pushed up, propping himself on an elbow and she got a good look at his face, distracted from his words by the beauty of the man hovering over her. Full lips moving, she ignored his words, losing herself in his eyes, unaware her hand had slipped from his shoulder to the sleek skin of his back, stroking slowly up and down. He wasn’t classically handsome; the evidence of a hard-lived life had stolen that away. What was left though was an entirely masculine man. His high brow lent strength to his features, framing his extraordinary eyes over angled cheekbones and a wide mouth.

  ***

  Po’Boy

  She’s gone for it, he thought and suppressed a grin. And now, I’m gonna go for it. No longer inebriated, Crissy was clearly turned on by whatever she saw on his face. Her hand on his back was hot, sensual. Flattened on his spine, it made its presence known with an insistent come here pressure downwards that was hard to resist. He licked his lips, and she mirrored the motion, bitable bottom lip glistening in the low light from the open door of the bathroom.

  He’d stood over her again when he’d woke up earlier, not needing a naked body to imagine the delights hidden underneath her clothing. His mouth and fingers had mapped much of it, any far-from-innocent positioning of his head and hands intentional. The scent from her dizzying as she shifted next to him, cuddling into him in her sleep, a heady mix of spice and musk that made him a drunkard.

  So he’d stood over her and denied the touch he’d wanted, cock rigid and straining at the air, slapping his stomach insistently, offering itself up for her enjoyment. Pick me, pick me. Large breasts held in place by her bra, enough cleavage for a good fuck, more than enough to motorboat with gusto. Pretty titties, the deep rose of her nipples showing through the sheer fabric of her shirt promised a mouthful of suckle waited for any man lucky enough to get her naked. Waist narrower than her hips, gave him vivid thoughts of having her on her hands and knees. In his head, he could imagine the give of her flesh as he buried his fingers and dragged her pussy back on his cock, impaling her over and over. An ass which was made to be spanked, or eaten until she screamed in frustration and pleasure, begging for his cock inside her. He’d scarcely come up for air if she’d let him have her like that.

  Last night, after long minutes of self-torture, he’d padded to the bathroom and stripped down. Leaning on a
forearm against the back wall of the shower, he’d spread his legs wide, alternating between stroking his cock with brutal strength and tugging on his sac, with a rough finger pressed against his hole, tracing the entrance with a delicate touch. Edging himself twice, he’d turned the water on and let it slick his cock, fist moving in a blur as he jacked hard. When he’d come in his hand, the force of his orgasm had bowed his back, shooting white streamers high on the tile. Breath coming fast and hard, he’d sagged against the wall.

  Dark need curled inside him now, staring down at her face as she looked up at him. Crissy wore a look of innocent arousal, and if her neediness last night hadn’t been an act, then he’d bet money she hadn’t been fucked in a long time. I can fix that for her. Be a kindness, really. He curled his tongue behind his teeth, waiting. Her gaze dipped from his mouth to his throat, and her lips pursed slightly. Po’Boy felt her gaze like a weight on his skin. “Wanna fuck.” He’d intended it as a question but knew she heard the command in the words instead. Her mouth fell open as she panted out a breath. “Yeah, I wanna fuck. Wanna fuck you, beautiful. Make you come with my mouth. I’ll eat you. Make a meal outta what you’ll give me. Wanna hear you moan my name.”

  She shifted, and he felt the scrape of material along his naked torso. Except for her shoes, she was still fully dressed, and he remembered her thigh-high hose and the tiny scrap of fabric between her legs. Remembered her taste. Want me some more of that. “I’m just gonna shove your panties to the side, bury my face between your thighs. Crissy—” He leaned close, lips to her ear, feeling her shiver as he whispered slowly, putting a pause between each word to ensure she understood. “I…wanna…fuck…you. Unless you tell me no, I’m gonna.”

  He didn’t wait for a response, didn’t expect one, and he wasn’t disappointed because instead of “no,” what he got instead was a soft moan of desire when his hand landed on her thigh below her skirt. Pushing it up, he made quick work of getting it out of the way, gripping the hem and tugging it up underneath her ass, lifting it to her waist. Hand under her back, he found the zipper to her blouse and whispered, “Arch up, beautiful. Don’t wanna snag your flawless skin.” She did, and he unzipped it, then worked the clasp on her bra. He pulled her bra and shirt down and freed her breasts, wasting not a second before he had his mouth on her. Sucking and nipping, feeding her nipple between his lips, he drew her deep into his mouth and worked her with his tongue. One hand landed on his head, cradling him closer as her other hand stroked along his shoulders, fingers working their way into his hair.