by Peyton Banks
“Whoa, there. We need to eat first,” he smartly remarks.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just got carried away.”
“I’m just kidding. But seriously, you’re going to want your energy to be at full capacity for what I have planned for you.” With a wink, he steps away and back into the kitchen. “The wine is on the table over there if you want to grab a glass and look around. I made shrimp scampi dip and toasted croutons for dipping as an appetizer if you want.”
“Okay, great. I haven’t had a chance to grab anything to eat today given my late start.”
“Did you keep your appointment today with your friend?” he sarcastically asks.
I spread a scoop of the dip on two pieces of the toasted bread, snag my glass of wine, and take a seat at his counter island where I watch him plate the salmon. “Carson and I had a lovely drive this morning. I signed the contract to be his exclusive shop and shared a glass of champagne to seal the deal. Me, him, and his husband, Malachi.” I smirk and tip my glass to my lips, swallowing the libation.
He sets our dinnerware on the table and grabs himself a glass of wine. “Sounds like your business is growing. Cheers to that.” He clinks his stemware to mine before taking a pull. “That’s good vintage there. Shall we?” Taking my hand in his, we stroll over to the table where he pulls out my chair, allows me to sit, and then takes his seat.
The meal before me looks professional. Clean plate edges, perfectly set table, complete with water glass. To say I’m impressed would be an understatement. I just wonder why all the trouble.
“So, did you have help preparing tonight’s meal?” I say before taking a forkful of the risotto and stuffing it in my mouth.
“Yep. One of my clients owns a rustic Mediterranean restaurant and I called in a favor.”
“Oh, what did you offer in return? A date with a hot bachelor? Is that what you trade?”
“No. I offered to waive my commission on next month’s transactions. Did you take up mechanics to meet men?”
“No, my father had a shop. When I was growing up, he taught me everything there was to know about vehicles, from engines, to exhaust.”
“So, that’s a family shop?”
“No, it’s mine.” I take a few minutes to chew the food in my mouth. “My dad passed a few years back. I took my inheritance and had it built the way we always dreamed of.”
“I’m sure he’s proud of you.”
“Yeah. I’d like to think so. That’s why I can’t have an unsatisfied customer, and my reputation is so important.”
“Well, I will leave my review after I drive my car tomorrow.” He smiles and digs into his food.
“Oh, speaking of. I took the liberty of opening it up on the highway.”
“What do you mean?”
“I gave her a real ride. You drive it for the status, and its style. That car needs to have all the horses galloping at one time every once in a while.” I return to my plate, taking in the last few bites while he stares at me with a smile.
“What?” I ask when his gaze doesn’t move.
“You are so beautiful. Your passion makes you irresistible and extremely sexy. In fact—” He stands and gingerly moves to my side of the dining table. He takes me by the hand and guides me to my feet. His hand gently caresses my face, tracing the lines of my nose, my cheeks, and my lips before placing a small kiss upon them.
I pull back a little, allowing a breathless sigh to escape as I peer into his dark brown eyes.
His sweet warm breath lingers above my own before his eyes turn up at the edge a little and he returns for another.
I open up slightly, allowing his tongue to dip between the seams. On instinct I curl my lips around his tongue, inviting him to delve deeper. The passion in his embrace rushes through my body and pushes me backward onto the table, knocking over the bottle of wine, the glasses, and sending the dinnerware to the floor.
“Roderick,” I breathe out.
His full lips slide over my neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake while his hand fumbles around with the buttons on my pants and unbuttons them. He stands, pulls me to my feet, and helps remove my capris—happy that I’m not wearing any underwear—then swoops me into his arms, grabbing the unopened bottle of wine, and strolls into his bedroom.
Roderick
The warmth of her lips as I kiss her surges desire to my dick. But I will my urges to stay at bay for now. This woman deserves to be pleased from her head to toe, matching her passion for cars. I lay her on my bed, bending her knees so her feet rest on the cover.
“Don’t move,” I demand, returning to the kitchen to gather the ice bucket that was chilling the wine. I remove my clothes and stand before her fully naked and hard.
Her chest heaves with her breath as she stares in awe. She licks her lips and her hand trails down to her core, parting the lips and slowly stroking.
“Oh no, don’t take that pleasure from me.” I pull her up to a sitting position and remove her bra and top, admiring her perky breasts as they relax from their bondage. I capture one in my hand and pull it to my mouth, lashing the tip of her nipple with my tongue for a few seconds before moving on to the other.
Her body writhes in pleasure, evident by her facial expressions of ecstasy and the arch of her back.
“Mm.” The whisper falls from her lips and teases my eardrums.
Leaning her backward into a reclined position, I continue my trek southward to the place that holds her sweet nectar. I take a quick lick. “Mm, still sweet,” I say, recalling where we left off in that engine room yesterday. I dart my tongue in and out of her pussy hole lapping up all her juices. Expertly moving all around the inside of her sugar walls, until she quakes with each tantalizing touch of her g-spot using the tip of my taste tool.
Nearing the apex of pleasure, her hands clench the cover tightly till they form a fist, and her feet are perched on my shoulders as she bucks her hips against my mouth.
I part her outer lips and lick the warm folds before positioning my mouth over her engorged clit, which I gently suck while my fingers slide into her honey spot, bringing her closer to the edge of climax.
The squishing sounds her pussy makes as she continues to thrust her hips grow louder as she squirts with her release. I’d be lying if I said this didn’t turn me on even more. Lapping up her spilled juices and feeling the quake of her thighs as they rest on my shoulders is all the motivation I need to make her cum again.
I reposition to my knees and stroke my shaft, squeezing the tip, excreting the buildup of precum. “Ready to go again?” I ask while sheathing my dick.
She uses her legs to lock me and roll me onto my back. “Ready for the ride of your life?” she retorts. Situating herself just above the head of my cock, she slides down the length, taking in all she can before adjusting herself and then rising. Alex slow grinds, rocking her pelvis back and forth, and, changing to a slight bouncing motion, makes my toes curl.
I grab her mounds and squeeze them softly with my palms, encircling her constricted nipples with the pads of my thumbs. “Fuck, baby. Keep doing that and you’ll make me cum hard.”
“Good, that’s my end game,” she replies before hopping up and down again.
The motion her breasts make jiggling in the air as she rides me hard helps spur on my release, but I’m not ready quite yet. I pull her off my dick and slide under her, placing her pussy back on my lips.
“Fuck!” she exclaims when I take her nub between my lips, pressing against her hard.
I can’t get enough of this woman. She rides harder against my mouth, enjoying the pleasure I’m bringing her.
Flipping her onto her back and pinning her legs back, I slide into her. I rub her clit with my thumb while pounding deep into her pussy.
Her nails dig into my thighs and her neck arches with throes of passion. With her inner walls tightening around my dick, and her breathing heavy, I lean atop her, still ramming away, and speed up to meet her pant for pant, thrill for thrill.
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br /> With one last thrust, our bodies convulse and implode. Letting her legs fall to the side, I collapse on top of her, our heartbeats both racing but marching to the same tempo.
The sweat glistening off her body is a perfect aphrodisiac. I store it in memory for my second round when the time comes.
“You alright?” I ask.
“I’m sated,” she replies with a wide smile.
“Good.” I turn her face toward me and kiss her softly.
She lies on her side, propping her head up onto her hand. “Are you okay?”
“Mm, delighted.” I trace her tattoo with my finger and take delight in her presence. “You want dessert?”
“Are you seriously thinking of food at a time like this?”
“No, I’m thinking of fuel for later.”
“I don’t think I can stay. I need to go home and get ready for the morning.”
“Hey, here’s an idea. You own the shop, you’re the boss, why don’t you call in? Say you have an illness or something?”
“I’ve never missed a day of work since I opened. And you want me to ruin my record? What’s in it for me?”
I take her hand and place it on my growing appendage. “Um, I think there’s a piston rod you can work on. It likes to eject fluid into a certain crankshaft.”
She laughs at my play on words using her skill set. “Well, I do like to make sure my customers are happy and leave me a five-star rating. I do love it when your piston blows a gasket.” She tosses her head back chortling at her own funny but corny joke.
The innuendos could go on, but I bring a level of seriousness back for a moment. “You remember yesterday on the boat I asked if you wanted more?”
“Yeah. What about it?”
“You never answered me.”
“I just find it odd that a man who is obviously a playa playa from the Himalayas, would ask a serious question. It seems more like you were trying to find my weakness and use it against me to get what you want.”
“And what do I want, Ms. Diagnostic Engineer?”
“To get me in your bed.” She waves her hand for emphasis.
I take one of her braids and coil it around my finger playfully. “Did you divulge any information to me that I could use?”
“Well, no.”
“Then why are you in my bed? Maybe it’s you that holds an ulterior motive.” I lie on my back, placing my hands behind my head.
“I don’t. I will admit, however, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you came into my spot Friday evening. I thought you were cute. But given your dress, job, and choice of car, I jumped to the conclusion that you are a ladies’ man.”
“So, why don’t you answer my question?”
“I do think at times, and I guess I want more. But does it ever really work out? I tried the dating thing, but he was intimidated by my career choice and my passion. But if you’re so gung-ho about being with someone, why are you single?”
“Oh, it’s not by choice and, contrary to what your presumptions are or were, I’m not a womanizer. Never have been. Sure, I’ve dated a lot and amicably we would have sex, but they were fine with those arrangements. If I even brought up dating, they would brush me off. Citing their career was too demanding and it just wouldn’t work, or they didn’t have time.”
She takes her hand and brushes it softly against my chest. “And what makes you think it would work now?”
Taking her hand, I place soft pecks upon the back of it before pulling it close to my chest. “For starters, look at Lucas and Simone. He always had a thing for her, but she was so focused on her career she never saw his advancements toward her. At first, he thought it was because he was white. I told him no, that’s not it. She’s just a glass ceiling breaker. So, he figured being a competitor would make her notice him. And well, that weird ass rivalry shit worked for them.”
“Oh, she noticed. I remember when Monie would call me and just gripe about this guy at work who was such a pain in her ass but was so fucking fine she couldn’t cuss him out like she wanted to. Believe me, the attraction was always there. If you ask me, it was like a boy pulling on a girl's pigtails on the playground.”
“What?” I laugh.
“You’ve never heard of that? If a little boy pulled on your hair or hit you, it meant he liked you.”
I fall over in major laughter and she punches me in my chest.
“Don’t laugh. It’s true.”
“So, did many boys bull on your hair when you were little?”
“No, I wore caps and fixed their bikes for ten dollars. They thought I was one of them.”
I pull her closer to me, her chest brushing up against mine. “If I pulled your hair now, would you think I liked you?” I coil a few strands around my fingers and give it a slight tug.
“I knew you liked me when you saw me at the club.”
“How?”
“Your eyes lit up; they had a spark to them. You then ordered me and my friend a drink, plus when we danced, I felt it on my backside. Besides, when you pitched a fit to find out a woman was working on your car, that to me was the equivalent of pulling on my hair.”
“Oh, that was a bit sexist of me. I did apologize. Would you like me to apologize again?” I kiss her on her neck. “And again,” I whisper, moving my lips over to her shoulder. “And agai—”
She interrupts me by mounting me and taking my lips with hers. I grab a handful of her braids and pull her head back, exposing her neck, and lick her from the sexy dip of her collar bone up to her chin before nibbling along her jawline.
“Uh, wait a second. I need to make a phone call,” she states.
I don’t want to let her go, but I release my hold and watch her walk out to the main living area and grab her things. It’s a sacrifice I have to make in order to watch her ass walk across my room naked.
“Oh, hey, Phil. You know the car I had to drop off today? Yeah Mr. Thrower? Well, he just messaged me and said there seems to be an issue with the ignition. I may have knocked a fuse loose while driving. So, I won’t be in tomorrow. Do you mind holding down the fort for me? Ok, thanks. I owe you one.”
“So, you decided to call off work after all?”
“No. Didn’t you hear me say there was an ignition problem? Now, I have to thoroughly check this fine machine and make sure I didn’t miss anything. Now lay down and let me pop the hood.”
“Well, don’t you think we should wash it first?” I hoist her over my shoulder and go to the bathroom where I start the water before stepping inside. Placing her on her feet, she backs under the water, holding her head back and letting the shower wash her from her honey-blonde braids to her manicured feet with the beaded anklet.
I grab the body wash and suds her down from her supple neck to the soles on which she stands.
She in turn does the same for me. There is something soul connecting and sensual about using your hands to cleanse your body, yet it is better to cleanse a person you find yourself attracted to.
We rinse off and go back to the bedroom where we make love all night.
I awake and find her still enveloped in my arms just the way we lay last night, or rather this morning when we finally had enough.
“Good morning,” I say, placing a kiss on her forehead.
“Mm, I haven’t slept in for a while. This feels good. It’s even better in your arms.” She stretches and the sheet betrays her, exposing her breasts.
I pinch her nipple and she pulls away slightly. “Rod, didn’t you get enough last night?”
“I don’t think I could ever get enough of you.”
“Well, pause for a few minutes. At least let me make you breakfast.”
“Wait, you cook too?”
“Like I said, customer satisfaction is my goal. Can’t risk my five-stars.” She winks and puts on my button-down shirt hanging on my armless chair, then saunters off to the kitchen.
I give her a few seconds before I toss on my grey sweat shorts and meet her in the kitchen where I
sit her on the counter and pull the shirt off her shoulders, giving me plenty of room to make out.
Alex is unlike any woman I’ve ever met. Can’t quite put my finger on it, but something sparked between us on Friday and it led to the ignition of something great.
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THE END
About the Author
ML Preston, was born and raised in Oklahoma City. An avid and voracious reader, she was encouraged to nurture her active imagination and quickly found a passion for storytelling. She spins sagas of passion and romance where the lines between race and creed, physical perfection and social norms disappear in the face of love. Novels of real love; erotic connections with a heart and soul that everyone can relate. She makes a home in Texas with her husband and three children, who keep her grounded when the voices call on her to tell their story. And they never stop calling.
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After This
AMABEL DANIELS
1
Jasmine
The fat moon lit the gravel path to the stables just fine, but I flashed my phone as I checked behind us once more.
“Will you put that thing down already?”
Since it was dark enough, I mock-sneered at Teresa’s sass as she high-stepped next to me along the crushed stone, holding her dress up like some dainty princess. This was a little bit like roughing it, if you asked me. My comfortable tolerance of the outdoors included a screened-in patio and AC within grasp. But what was the point of clutching her dress up high if the hem was nowhere near her damn feet?
The route taking us away from the dress rehearsal dinner was a level, clear lane of stones, bordered on both sides by artistically designed garden beds. A well-maintained landscape, regardless of the fact we were trespassing. “It’s dark out—”