“Three,” I say, pumping them in, then dragging them almost all the way out, letting the friction from the heel of my hand drag across my clit.
“My cock is thicker than that, baby girl,” he whispers. “Better make it four.” I do as I’m told, sliding my pinky in alongside the others. The fullness has my toes curling. “That’s better, isn’t it?”
“So much better,” I moan, grinding against my hand. I twist out of the sheet that was covering me. Errant strands of hair stick to my damp temples and my vision gets fuzzy around the edges.
“Are you playing with your nipples?” he asks, his voice strained.
“No,” I all but whine. “I need my other hand to hold the phone.”
“Put it on speaker,” he barks out. “If I were there, I’d have your little rosy nipples trapped between my teeth. I’d be licking and sucking them until they were bruised and furled so tightly they hurt.”
I hit the speaker icon and set the phone on the pillow next to my head. My free hand palms my right breast and I grip my nipple between my knuckles, while I continue finger fucking my cunt. The sound all four of them make as they drive into me is obscene, and I can hear Cash’s groan of satisfaction on the other end. “Are you touching yourself too?”
“I have a death grip on my dick and it still isn’t as tight as you, Cherry Girl. I love your little pussy. I love fucking it. How red it gets after taking my big fat cock. How hot and wet you are. How cute it looks with my cum weeping from your opening.”
“God,” I moan.
“Not God, Cherry. Daddy.”
“Daddy,” I say in agreement. My body quakes as the word slips past my lips. The fuzziness overtakes my edges, and my core explodes in pleasure. I rock against my hand and cry out. My body goes slack and I’m left a quivering, panting ball of sweat.
“Good girl,” Cash’s voice rings through the orgasm fog.
I smile brightly at the phone, then snag it from the pillow and position it between my legs, snapping a picture of my four fingers inside of me and hit send. A few seconds later, I hear Cash groaning.
“Fuck, that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
A fist pounds on my door. “Wake up, slut. It’s my motherfucking birthday and why is your door locked?”
I quickly hit end on the speaker and yell out. “You weren’t born until ten seventeen,” I remind her. “And it’s locked because I’m masturbating.”
“You know, you don’t have to share everything, right? Some things you can keep to yourself.”
“Noted.”
“Meet me downstairs in fifteen. You’re coming to brunch with me and Beth.”
“Sounds like torture,” I yell, kicking my faded blanket from around my ankles.
“Tough shit,” she says and then she’s gone.
“That was close,” I whisper, as I stand on wobbly legs, and do my best impersonation of a newborn deer as I make my way to my closet.
“Did you have to tell her you were masturbating?”
“I figured it was better than, I’m having phone sex with your sperm donor.”
“Noted,” he says mirroring my earlier words.
“I gotta go,” I groan. I’d rather pluck my eyelashes out one at a time than spend an entire day with Arden’s sorority friends. I flip through the hangers, trying and failing to find something pastel.
“Have fun and be good.”
“I’m not sure I can do both of those things at the same time,” I tell him, stopping on the pink blouse Arden gave me to wear to Christmas dinner with her mom and stepdad. According to her, everything in my closet is black, distressed, and indecent.
“Try, or instead of special kisses, you’ll be over my knee.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Daddy.” I laugh, yanking the shirt from the hanger along with the only pair of jeans I own with no holes.
“You’re mad.” He chuckles.
“Madly in lust,” I say, just before ending the call.
A few hours and several rounds of mimosas later, I pull my beat-up old Beetle through the gate in Cash’s neighborhood. “Ms. Cherry, always a pleasure,” the guard says tipping his hat.
Arden shoots me a sideways glance. “How do you know the guard?”
“Oh…he used to come into the steakhouse,” I say tersely, pulling onto the road that leads to Cash’s place. “Small world, huh?” I pretend to check the GPS like I haven’t driven this same path a million times already and send up a silent prayer that I don’t fuck up this night.
“Yeah, the smallest,” Arden muses. She turns to watch the houses as we pass. Curiosity fills her eyes, and I wonder what she’s thinking. Since Fairmont, her relationship with Cash has gotten stronger. Tonight feels like a turning point. Finals are over, and after the party, we don’t have a reason not to tell her. Everything will change after tonight, and I pray that I can keep my best friend.
I park behind Cash’s SUV. The sun sits low in the sky, blanketing the horizon in an orange afterglow. It’s picture perfect, but I can’t stop the churning in my gut. My anxiety is at an all-time high. I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. A party at Cash’s house. What if I get drunk and forget to pretend like I haven’t been here before, or worse, what if some drunk sorority girl flirts with Cash? Am I supposed to stand there and pretend I don’t want to rip her fucking hair out?
“Why are you so tense?” Arden’s voice cuts through my mini meltdown.
“It’s just really nice, that’s all,” I lie smoothly. Tonight is about Arden and her birthday and fun. I can do this. I can make it through a night at the beach.
Cash and Logan stand at the top of the stairs, no doubt alerted to our arrival by security. We exit the car and grab the bags from my trunk. My breath catches when I get a good look at him. He’s a dark king, in his black jeans and t-shirt. His hair is wet, like he showered not too long ago. His cheeks are tinted pink, probably from a few fingers of gin. His entire aura screams sex and possession. I want to fall at his bare feet. I want him to claim me, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, which is silly. I can’t have him, at least not in the way I want, at least not tonight, yet my body inches toward him of its own accord, stopping closer than socially acceptable, but still far enough away to avoid any raised eyebrows.
“Hey.” Arden beams as she approaches, juggling bags of snacks and liquor in her hands.
Cash smiles his shy smile and reaches for her bags. Logan takes mine and we follow them inside. “Thanks again for letting us have this here.”
“Of course,” Cash replies, scrubbing a hand down his face. My fingers itch to trace the same path, so I ball my hands into fists at my sides. Get it together, Cherry. This isn’t the first time that I’ve had to pretend that Cash isn’t the first person I think about when I wake up in the morning or the last person on my mind before bed at night, but somehow tonight feels different. Maybe it’s the heat, or the sexcapades from this morning that has me on edge, but I’d give anything to spend the night in his arms as opposed to down on the beach with the assholes from Brighton U.
“Everything is set up down there. Kitchen’s yours. Downstairs bathrooms are yours, but try to keep the party outside,” Cash instructs. His eyes flit to mine briefly and he offers a polite smile. For a moment, I think he can sense my unease, but he returns his attention to Arden—his daughter.
My subconscious betrays me in that moment. Images of the two of them, with a mystery blonde sporting a diamond the size of her big fake tits, flits through my mind. A happy family. One that doesn’t include me.
I grab a bottle of vodka from one of the grocery bags Logan carried in by the neck with one hand and turn towards the back porch. “I’ll go check out the beach.”
Arden nods, lifting a few of the bags. “I’ll come with. Thanks again, this place is amazing,” she tosses over her shoulder, and I can’t help but nod bitterly. It is amazing. It
just isn’t mine. “Tonight is going to be epic,” she says as we jog down the stairs and onto the beach. They feel like famous last words.
Hell, maybe they are.
Smoke wafts from the lazy bonfire, casting a haze on the orange sky. I lift my hand to bring the plastic red cup to my lips. Slow. Slow. Slow. It’s like my arm is operating on a five-second delay. The plastic rim hits my lips around the same time I hear a splash.
I sit up in my beach chair, craning my neck around the flaming embers just in time to see Arden with a few of her sorority sisters running from the waves. Further down, a group of guys toss a Frisbee, and further still, a couple walks hand in hand along the shoreline.
The first guests arrived a couple of hours ago, and since then, Arden has circulated like the social butterfly she is, leaving me alone with a handle of cheap vodka and even more pent-up frustration. I need Cash. I need to feel the sting of his palm against my ass. The bite of his teeth at my neck. The pillow-soft press of his lips to mine. I hate this uncertainty. I hate this longing. I hate waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Standing, I down the remains of my cup and slide a finger under the bright red Lycra hugging my ass. I wore the smallest bikini I own for Cash. His mark between my legs on full display. I wanted to show the world that I was taken. I wanted to show him that I was unashamed, and what good did it do? He stayed true to his word. He and Logan were holed up in his den, watching basketball, totally ignoring us.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
My heartbeat slows in rhythm as I make my way up the stairs on wobbly legs.
“Cherry!” Arden says, jogging up from the water. “Are you okay?”
“I need to pee,” I tell her, pointing towards the house.
Arden smiles her drunk smile and bobs her head up and down. “Need me to go with?”
“No, enjoy your party.” I brush the sand from the back of my legs and take the stairs two at a time. I push into the back door and stumble into the kitchen. The bathroom is to the left, and thankfully there’s not a line. I finish up, wash my hands, then make my way back into the kitchen. I pull open the freezer, snag Cash’s stash of gelato, and dig in.
“Can I have a bite?” Parker says, pulling the door shut behind him. I roll my eyes but grab him a spoon from the drawer.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says casually, scraping his spoon across the top of the pint. He settles into the space next to me, and we are quiet for a beat as we swallow the frozen deliciousness.
“I haven’t been avoiding you,” I tell him, around my spoon. “I just don’t want to lead you on.”
“Ahh, because of the boyfriend.” The skepticism is clear in his tone. I have been notoriously anti-relationship since freshman year, which oddly enough is the reason why Parker and I started hooking up in the first place. He wanted a girl to keep his bed warm in the off season, and I wanted a man with a hard dick and low expectations. We worked well together, until Cash came and redefined my personal definition of happiness.
“Yes, because of him.”
“Where is he tonight?” Parker turns, his hip resting on the edge of the counter. He’s tall, well over six feet, with the body of a world-class athlete. I used to love having his hands on me, but his nearness has zero effect on me. I chuckle into the gelato. That bloody British arsehole really does own me.
“It doesn’t matter where he is,” I tell him.
“If you were my girl, no way I’d let you be at a party half-naked with a bunch of horny douchebags.” He yanks at the string on my waist, not hard enough for it to unravel, but enough to pull the fabric away from my skin, baring my hip to him.
“Probably why I’m not your girl,” I quip, shifting to put more space between us.
Parker clutches his chest. “Ouch, Cherry, that’s fucked up.” He smiles his million-dollar smile, then he takes the gelato from my hands and sets it on the counter. His hands find my waist and he forces me to meet his gaze. “Where is he tonight?” he asks again, this time the lust is clear in his voice. I can’t even be mad at his persistence. The old Cherry would have 100% fucked Parker, but I am not that girl anymore. I belong to Cash, and even though we will eventually part, and he’ll go on and find love with a woman who has a retirement plan, Cash will always be my everything.
“I’m sorry, Park, but it’s not happening.”
He drops his forehead to mine. “Are you sure?”
A growl rips from the other side of the room. “She said no, asshole.” Cash stands there, and his eyes flare with rage. I can smell the testosterone radiating off him. Logan stands at his back. Both men have risen to their full height. It’s feral and manly and makes my pussy leak. “I suggest you leave my daughter’s friend alone.”
Parker lifts his hands up and chuckles. “Relax, old man. I’m not that hard up. You’ve got my number, Cherry. If you ditch the fuckboy, don’t be afraid to use it.” Parker saunters out the back door, letting it slam as he exits.
Logan laughs. “God, you’re pussy whipped.” Then he turns and heads back towards the den.
Once we’re alone, Cash crosses the kitchen and I smile up at him. “What’s so funny, Cherry Girl?”
“You getting all growly over Parker Hayes. It’s cute.”
“Cute?”
“Yeah, like you have anything to worry about. I’m obsessed with you, remember? You’ll probably need a restraining order when it’s all said and done.”
“Madly in lust, if I recall correctly.”
“Lust is all it is,” I mutter, the alcohol swirling in my brain making me brave. “Just lust.” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his mouth to mine. “Definitely not love. Because that would be crazy, right?”
Cash’s mouth finds mine and he devours me. “Certifiable.” He lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me up the stairs. This is stupid, but my sex throbs for him in a way that’s unhealthy, a little toxic, and completely me.
Once we are in his room, he kicks the bedroom door shut and drops me on the bed with a bounce. “Your little boyfriend was right about one thing.” He whips his shirt over his head, then peels off his jeans and boxers in one swoop. His need to stake his claim burns bright in his eyes. I am at his mercy, and my body aches in anticipation.
“What?” I ask, kicking my shoes off.
“I was an idiot for letting you run around all day in this tiny little thing.” His fingers trace the scrap between my legs. He drags his knuckles over my slit.
“I thought I looked hot,” I say arching my back. The two triangles covering my boobs, stretch to the limit, as the dusty pink of my areola peeks from underneath.
A low groan pulls from Cash’s throat as he bends down to kiss the partially hidden flesh. His head dips lower, his breath skitters across my abdomen, then down even further. “You do look hot.” His fingers brush the fabric aside and he inhales. “I love your pretty little pussy. I love kissing it and fucking it and owning it. I love the way it weeps for me. I love the way your back arches when I brush a thumb over your clit. I love the way your legs shake when I kiss all around her. I love the way your fingers tangle in my hair when I teaser her. A silent plea for more. And do you know what I love most of all?”
“What?” I pant.
“I love that moment just before you come. That moment just before your world fractures in two. Even with you writhing and broken, you’re still attuned to me. Like I am your sun and you are the moon. I love being that for you. Your center. My dick gets hard knowing I am that for you. Knowing that even if the world disappoints you, I won’t. I’m the steady. I’m the good, and depending on your mood, the bad. I am the alpha and omega.” He keeps kissing and licking and sucking. I can barely hear him anymore. The orgasm breaks free and my body shatters for him.
“You know what else I love?” he asks crawling up my body. His skin sears mine.
“What?” I whisper.
“You,” he says as he slides his thick cock into my
soaked center. “I love you, Cherry Girl.”
“I love you too,” I moan, rocking with him. He fucks me slow, brushing my damp hair back from my face, kissing me softly. His fingers interlock with mine. Our bodies are connected, as are our hearts. He moves in tandem as another orgasm builds slowly, until I’m falling again, this time with no safety net.
He groans and stills. I can feel his cum leak from my center as he slips out of me. Cash moves down slightly. His fingers dip in the mess between my legs, and he pushes it back inside, painting my puffy pussy with his cum.
I sigh contently, as he slowly works his fingers in and out, vaguely registering the sliver of light before it washes over the entire room. Cash and I both turn in time to see Arden’s face fall, as she stumbles back.
Cash
“BLOODY HELL,” I HISS, JUMPING to my feet. I reach for my boxers and slip into them.
Cherry scrambles off the bed, dropping to her knees, searching frantically for her swimsuit. “You didn’t lock the fucking door.”
“I wasn’t thinking.” I hobble into a pair of sweatpants and run out the door. I rake my fingers through my hair as profanities spew from my lips. Arden is halfway down the stairs by the time I’m presentable. “Arden,” I yell, “please give me a minute to explain.” My heart thunders in my chest. I grip the railing, moving so quickly my feet slip on the way down.
“Explain what exactly?” Arden turns. Her red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks hit me like a bullet to the brain, but it’s her voice, cool and detached, that has me rearing back. “That it isn’t what it looks like? That you weren’t fucking my best friend at my birthday party?”
A few kids from the party stumble out from the kitchen. Their dilated eyes widen. “Fucking OUT,” I roar, causing our audience to scramble.
Cherry rushes past me. She’s wearing one of my t-shirts over her bikini. “Babe.” She skids to a halt in front of Arden. “I swear to God, I never meant for you to find out like that.”
Arden runs her hands through her hair and paces the room. “You’re wearing his clothes.” Her eyes flicker from me to Cherry and back again.
Cherry Bomb (Brighton #1) Page 15