by T Gephart
“Even so, I’m sorry.” He put his hand on his heart, giving me a smile I hadn’t realized I’d missed. “So what are you feeling? Any preference for dinner?”
Spending my evening trying to have a conversation in a busy restaurant wasn’t going to work. I didn’t want to have to yell over noise or fight for his attention with the wait staff.
No, we had a lot to discuss and we needed to go somewhere where we wouldn’t be interrupted. And while his place was nicer, I needed whatever advantage I could get.
“Do you think we could just get something at my place and just hang out? I’m don’t really feel like going out.”
I didn’t think how it might sound, until it had already left my mouth.
The fiend, wanting to take her prey home so she could maul him without an audience. Thank God, I was still playing ignorant to the kiss and everything that came after.
“Of course,” he agreed, not questioning my intentions. “We’ll pick something up on the way.”
He waited, looking over to see if I had anything to add, his hand casually resting on the steering wheel.
“Sounds good.” I folded my hands in my lap. “So how was your day?”
“I went and hung out with Nick,” he responded, surprising me with his answer.
I’d half expected him to go see Astrid, and I hated how irrationally glad I was he hadn’t. Yes, yes—he said they were friends, but he’d said we were friends too and he kissed me last night. To say my mind was scrambled was an understatement.
“How is he?” I asked, trying to be polite.
“Yeah, good.” All he was giving me.
We opted for burgers and fries, cruising through the drive thru around the corner from my apartment. His no alcohol stance from earlier made easier by the lack of alcoholic options on the menu. Two chocolate shakes it was, not bothering to remind him that I had his stolen bottle of Napa wine as he grinned at me smugly when he collected our order from the window.
He parked the car, and we got out, climbing the stairs up to my apartment with the food in my hand while he carried the drinks. To an outside observer we might look like a couple, coming home with takeaway, ready for a relaxing night in.
It was funny how that fantasy excited me, needing to remind myself that it wasn’t what was happening.
When I got to my front door I could sense his gaze intensifying. Like he was looking to see if my key in the lock would spark the memory of what had happened the night before.
It did, the temptation to toss the food and the drinks aside and kiss him the minute we walked in so overwhelming I was positive I needed therapy. But not only did I not kiss him, I kept all those emotions locked in the vault.
He kicked the door closed behind us with a loud thud, his eyes following me like laser beams as I walked into the living room and put the food on the coffee table. We settled on the couch and I started my cross-examination.
“Hey, so Stefan was wondering if you could do a favor for him.” I peeled back the wrapping on the burger, taking a small nibble from the bun. “I told him I’d ask but don’t feel obligated or anything.”
He mirrored me, stripping his burger of its paper shell but waiting to take a bite. “What’s the favor?”
I chewed thoughtfully, making sure I maintained eye contact. “He wanted you to introduce him to Astrid. Maybe you can mention it when you see her for that dinner or whatever?”
It had been delivered casually, tossed at him like a bouquet at a wedding and I was just waiting for him to catch it.
“Sure, I can do that. I’m sure she’ll enjoy the attention.” He shrugged, taking a lazy sip of his chocolate shake.
“Ah-ha! So that was why you wouldn’t sleep with me.” I dropped the burger back onto the coffee table, pointing at him with accusation. “All your talk about me being drunk, when really the truth had nothing to do with me.”
Playing it cool had gone out the window, along with the reasons why I shouldn’t confront him. I might regret it later, but at that moment, I wanted to know why.
His eyebrow rose, taking a bite from his burger chewing thoughtfully before he responded. “I thought you didn’t remember.”
No pointing, no raised voice—complete lack of surprise, like he knew all along.
I bet he was fantastic at Poker, bluffing his way to winning the pot when all he had was a pair of deuces.
“I was mad,” I fired back, the emotion making a come back. “I threw myself at you, and—”
“And I’m not going to be your drunken mistake.” He cut me off, his eyes simmering.
“I wasn’t drunk.” My fingernails bit into my palms as I balled them into fists. Violence was never a solution. At least that was what I told myself as I fought the urge to lash out. “And I sure as hell don’t need anyone else saving me from my mistakes. If I fuck up, I’ll own it. I’m a big girl. What I won’t have is you, or anyone else, telling me what I can or can’t do.”
I was a warrior princess on a hill, sword drawn, and ready to go to battle.
Power surged inside of me as my back straightened and I dared him to say it again.
He didn’t.
It seemed he thought the dare was something else, reaching out for me, pulling me towards him in a heated rush as he put his mouth on mine. Our lips crashed as I wasted no time in kissing him back.
The conversation wasn’t over, we’d just moved to an alternate method of arguing.
“Fuck,” he moaned against my mouth, his hands moving to my ass as I shifted into his lap.
There was no resistance from me, my brain forgetting the argument entirely and my body grinding against him as our tongues and lips tangled. Kissing him, biting him—wanting more than what he was giving me as I rocked my hips. Feeling him already hard made me even more turned on.
“I want you. Jesus Christ, I want you.” His mouth moved to my neck, sucking and biting as his hands explored my body. Desperately touching every inch as his lips stayed on my skin.
It wasn’t only his hands on an explorative mission; mine had decided to do the same, my fingers rippling over his muscular arms and chest in a blind frenzy. “How did you have time for college? It feels like all you did was work out.”
“I can multitask, something you’re about to find out.”
Unsure exactly how it was achieved, he lifted me—and himself—from sitting on the couch to a stand. My legs wrapped around him, my arms anchoring around his neck as his hands cradled my ass.
He didn’t stop kissing, fevered and desperate, possessing my mouth like he needed it to be his.
I closed my eyes, absorbing it all and felt us moving. He was carrying me, kissing me, his impressive hard-on pressing against me, until suddenly we were in my room.
He wasn’t kidding when he said he could multitask.
We went horizontal, both of us crashing onto the surface of my bed.
“You better not stop,” I warned, pulling him down onto me. “We don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to, but you better not stop kissing me.”
He lifted my knee, slipping into the space between my legs and ground his cock against my core. “Oh, I’m not stopping.” The pressure against me was making me wet. “And it is going to be a hell of a lot more than just kissing.”
My clothes were burning against my skin as I pulled at his T-shirt. “Get it off,” I begged, needing less barriers between us.
His weight lifted, his hands moving from my body to his own as he tore the shirt off his body in one sexy maneuver.
Boom.
I had to physically stop, remove my lips from his neck and take a minute to appreciate it—his body was a work of art.
My fingers moved over the ridges, snaking up his torso to his solid pecs and strong shoulders. I explored with wonder, my hands sliding down his corded arms and then back up again, committing each muscle to memory as they returned to his chest.
“You happy with just the shirt? Or you want me to take something else off?” A sly grin
hooked at his mouth, watching me as I ogled him.
He was no longer my childhood friend, that memory had been tucked away for safe keeping so it wasn’t polluted by my dirty and very un-friend like thoughts.
“Take everything off.” My fingers slithered down to the zipper of his jeans, tracing the shape of his hard length under it.
There was no going back.
He hissed as I squeezed him, rotating his hips underneath my hand as he tilted his head back. He gave us both a minute to enjoy it and then pulled my hands off.
Hands shouldn’t be erotic, but as his got busy taking off his jeans I was mesmerized by the flex of each tendon. Strong and capable, they tossed his pants to the floor as he toed off his shoes and then lost his socks.
A pair of short black cotton trunks strained to keep his cock contained, his thumbs hooked into the waistband and hesitating for only a second until they were gone too.
My eyes flashed greedily at his skin, devouring each inch as I licked my lips. It wasn’t just his torso that had been perfect, the rest of his huge toned frame was a mastery of human evolution.
Oh.
My.
God.
I was going to pass out.
My body was too warm, my skin itching underneath my clothes as my core throbbed. My nipples peaked, hardening against my bra as I sucked in a breath. I was dying for hands to touch me, preferably his, and right the hell now.
“Your turn.” His voice rumbled as he brought all that beautiful perfection closer, his fingers moving to the front of my blouse and unbuttoned.
He wasn’t going fast enough.
My hands competed with his as I yanked at my top and pulled it off over my head. Next was my skirt, the zipper ripped down as I shuffled it past my hips. I couldn’t get it any further, the material bunched up under my thighs as my back arched. His attention had been diverted from undressing me, his hands palming one breast while he sucked the nipple of the other one through the lace of my bra.
“I need to taste you,” he groaned, sliding the cup off the swell of my breast and returning his mouth. His tongue swirled around the peak, teething it gently before sucking it hard.
“More,” I begged, lifting my butt and working my way out of my skirt.
My panties and bra would have to find their own way off, my hands no longer capable of resisting touching him.
Heels fell to the floor as I kicked them off, our bodies writhing together as my fingers wrapped around his shaft and stroked. “Maya.” He breathed out my name, tearing at my bra until the metal clasp at the back gave way.
Tossed to the floor with everything else, he licked my breasts and sucked my skin while his fingers glided down my stomach, stopping when he reached the top of my cleft.
I didn’t know what he was thinking, but if he was having second thoughts he wasn’t showing it. Like I had stashed our history, so had he, touching me in a way he never had.
Pulling my panties aside, his fingers touched my core. I breathed out, the air hissing from my lips as he continued to explore, coating himself in my wetness while he circled my clit.
“You want me to fuck you, Maya?” He nipped at my chin, his hips pumping into my grasp. I wasn’t sure if I was still jerking him off or he was fucking my hand but it was hot, my fingers doing their best to stretch around his girth and stay tight.
“Yes. It’s what I want.” My mouth found his, kissing him as he plunged two fingers inside of me.
“Ah, fuck,” he cursed, moving his fingers in and out of me, my core tightening around him. “You feel so fucking good.”
The mood changed, the lines of his face hardening as he slid his fingers out and pulled down my underwear, removing the last barrier between us. We’d crossed the line, the point of no return and I was sure he felt it too.
He unwrapped my fingers from his cock, and took it into his own hand, giving it a stroke. His eyes stayed on me, watching as I followed the glide of his fingers up and down and then squeezed at the base.
“There is so much I want to do to you.” His voice raw as his gaze heated. “But right now I need to be inside of you, Maya.”
He was in luck, because that was exactly what I needed too.
My moaned “yes” enough.
He leaned down to his pants on the floor and pulled out a condom, with the speed and precision of a bomb technician. Each movement practiced, efficient—tearing open the pack, rolling it down his hard length and settling back between my thighs.
He didn’t waste time, kissing my lips as he rubbed the head against my opening, circling it twice before pushing in one fluid motion. I gasped, my mouth spreading across his as I arched into him, absorbing the fullness as I pulsed around him.
“So good.” He growled, holding his hips still against mine. “You feel like fucking heaven.”
“More, Alex.” My body bucked underneath him. “I want more.”
The first slide in and out was slow, and measured, my eyelashes fluttering at the sweet bite of pain as I stretched around him. But slow didn’t last, his next thrust faster and deeper, my body taking every inch he gave me.
“I’ll give you more.” His hand hooked under my knee, using the position for more leverage. “So much you won’t be able to walk for a week.”
His hips rocked into me, delivering on his promise with each hard and fast thrust, our mouths alternating between kissing and biting.
I couldn’t speak, reduced to mumbled gasps as he drove into me, knowing exactly what to do to drive me crazy.
“I feel you wanting to come.” His voice rough as his fingers slid between us and circled my clit. “Feel your pussy squeezing against my dick, wanting the release.”
“Not yet.” My fingers dug into his back, my body teettering at the cusp and desperate to hold on. “I don’t want it to end.”
“Let go, Maya.” His teeth grazed against my shoulder. “I plan on making you come so many times, you’ll be begging me to stop.”
My body exploded, resisting my effort to prolong the feeling as I came hard around him. I shivered; a sheen of sweat covering my skin while my muscles twitched like defective Christmas lights.
He didn’t stop, keeping up his tempo as my body pulsed. “Yes, baby. Just like that. Come for me.”
Waves rippled through me as he shuffled to his knees and raised both my legs, anchoring them on his shoulders. “Heaven.” He thrust, the sensation starting to build again. “Being inside of you is fucking heaven.”
There was no time to think about what was happening, my brain checked out as every single cell of my body vibrated with him.
It had never happened before, the idea of coming twice nothing more than an elusive fairytale that women whispered about to each other over cocktails as they giggled. But I hadn’t believed its existence.
“Oh my God,” I yelled, overcome by the sensations, the crest taking me by surprise as I looked into his eyes. “Alex.”
His name was both the question and the answer as my body found what it was looking for, splintering into a million tiny pieces.
“Maya.” My name a benediction, as he followed me over the edge, pumping into me as he came too.
Breaths came out in hard, labored pants as my eyes widened. He was holding me in place, buried inside of me as the last little pulses ended.
“You okay?” he asked, his fingers feathering on the top of my legs as he lowered them onto the bed. “I know I promised you wouldn’t be able to walk, but I was hoping it might take a few more times.” His mouth hooking into a grin as he slowly pulled out of me.
“Fine. I’m fine. I could sprint two miles easy.” I lied, my legs feeling like jelly as I shuffled onto the bed. I hadn’t thought about the “after” and was hoping it wasn’t going to be weird.
He leaned down, kissing me slowly. “Good. Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”
The mattress moved as he lifted, shifting off the bed and striding to the connecting bathroom. It was still early evening, the light in the
room bright enough I could see everything, which is exactly what I did.
Of course I’d seen his body when he’d stripped off his clothes, and it had been pretty spectacular. But I hadn’t been able to appreciate all its wonder until my eyes followed him out of the room. Like wolfing down a meal when starving, I had gorged on him and not tasted how incredible my feast had been.
Stunning, every inch of him so devastatingly beautiful it almost hurt to look. I did of course, taking the risk of damaging my corneas when he returned with the condom removed and his glorious cock hanging half hard.
God, I hoped he was serious about doing it again.
“Something you want to say, Maya?” He stood at the edge of the bed giving me the opportunity to let my eyes linger.
He was so generous.
I shook my head, keeping my eyes right where they wanted to be. On him. “No, I just like looking at you.”
“Well good, I like looking at you.” He folded his arms across his chest causing his muscles to flex. “Now, are we going to talk about what happened, or are you going to let me make you come again? Since you don’t like being told what to do, I’ll let you make the choice.”
So.
Fucking.
Generous.
My arms stretched out either side of me, offering myself to him like a gift. “Make me come.”
“Good choice. We’ll talk later.”
FORGET NOT BEING ABLE TO walk for a week, a month was likely more reasonable.
My body lay tired and languid, crumbled onto its side and sprawled on Alex’s chest. He was asleep, the low whistle that blew past his lips as reassuring as the steady strong beat of his heart.
We’d had sex three times, only stopping because we’d run out of condoms. He’d had three tucked away in his pocket—the idea making me irrationally jealous, especially considering I’d been the beneficiary—while my recent sexual hiatus had meant I’d had none.
That would change though. The idea of me sliding out of bed, finding a convenience store and buying their entire supply, a consideration I was giving some serious thought.
He stirred, his hand brushing against my ass and then squeezing when he registered the contact. He’d done that a lot through the night, keeping his hands on me, even while he slept.