Saved Between the Sheets: An Anthology of Stories that Get to the Point

by R. M. Walker

  James leaned back into his chair, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right though,” he mused. “There are more important qualities than supernatural ones. I mean, being super has to be just like any other talent. Up to how you use it.”

  “My dad always used to say–” I stopped short, realizing it was about to out me.

  “What’d he used to say?” James asked, leaning in closer.

  I shrugged. “Just that we could be whoever we wanted. Powers or not.”

  “Your dad sounded like a wise man. You must take after him.”

  I felt my cheeks warm at the compliment. I glanced away and then back. James was still staring at me, a fire burning in his eyes.

  “What’re you doing tonight?” he asked.

  Hopefully you, I thought.

  * * *

  As we fell into his apartment with lips locked, it hit me what the catch had to be. The guy totally had a micro-penis. Hands down, that was what was going to happen to me.

  Fortunately, with James’ teeth gently nipping at my lips and his hands tangled in my hair, I didn’t give a damn about his size. As long as he had a four-inch tongue to make up for it, I was not to be deterred.

  We collapsed onto his bed, his weight descending on top of me. I didn’t understand the science behind my powers – somehow I managed to be strong, fast, AND light – but male body weight on top of me was a top notch turn on. Hard and warm and heavy even if I could throw him across the room and break his back in a millisecond.

  I gripped his face passionately as James kissed me, palming my breasts as I released a deep breath. His tongue explored my neck as he squeezed, pulling the top of my shirt down and moving to cover my breasts with his mouth. I set a light hand on the back of his neck, drawing soft lines up and down it as his tongue circled my nipple. My head tilted back, fingers clenching into his hair as mindfully as I could manage.

  James pushed an arm underneath the small of my back, cradling me up into his body. I wanted to feel his skin against mine. I needed to be closer to him than was physically possible. Reaching for his shirt, I fumbled hurriedly to unbutton it. Having approached the task with a bit too much vigor, one of the buttons few off, crashing into something in a distant corner of the room.

  “Whoa,” James said, his eyes wide as he looked down on me.

  “I think I broke your lamp,” I whispered.

  “I don’t give a damn about the lamp or the shirt. Get it off me however you like.”

  He guided my hand back to the buttons and, feeling the hard pecs underneath the fabric, I flicked a finger at the next button and it, too, soared far out of sight. Finally, I just ripped the damn thing off him.

  I should’ve been more careful, but I didn’t care. I was just so happy to feel like myself – using my powers in a sensual way, a way that pleased him. A way that expressed who and what I was, which right now was really fucking into this.

  James’ mouth found my breasts again, and he moved his hand up my skirt, drawing down my tights. “It’s only fair–” he murmured into my breast, “if I rip these.” And then he did so with a ferocity to rival my own.

  The hand propping up my waist reached around and grabbed my ass, while his other pushed back my skirt and hiked one of my legs up. His fingers explored me as his tongue circled my nipple. My breath hitched.

  His kisses moved down my body, grazing my ribs, my stomach, skipping their ultimate destination in favor of teasing me. James took my upheld leg into the crook of his arm, pulling it up to his mouth and sucking at my inner thigh hungrily. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching as he made my body his own, indulging in every inch of my skin.

  He paused to look up at me and smiled. I smiled, too. And then James pulled his body up to kiss me on the mouth. It wasn’t a drunk kiss like the first time, but neither was it laced with the carnal anticipation it’d held mere minutes ago. It was sweet and filled with promises of real desire and intention.

  “Fuck,” I whispered when he finally tugged my clothes off and found his way back down, setting his tongue against my pussy. James buried his face into me and moved his head back and forth, lifting his chin for half a second to sweep his tongue fully across my center. My body buckled in reaction to an intensity of the best kind. He raised my legs, pushing them over my stomach and holding my cheeks wide for full access, and went back down on me. His tongue was a thorough explorer, passing over every fold, attentive to every small jerk and every quiet moan that escaped me. James was learning me better than anyone had before, with patience and skill. It was hard to be distracted by my fears when I was so overwhelmed by how much this man wanted me.

  I couldn’t breathe, the expression of my pleasure stuck somewhere low in my throat. I bowed my legs in but James forced them wide again and I had to consciously redirect my strength elsewhere. I grasped at the pillows underneath my head, wondering if he’d have any left either by the time we were done.

  When James finally entered me, he did it gently, biting my lip as he pushed inside slowly. I savored the feeling of him expanding me, filling me up. He had the kind of hips that moved independently of the rest of his body like they knew what they wanted, and they thrust in and out of me as I stared up at him wide-mouthed, just watching his body move against mine. He set his forehead against my head and I touched a hand to his cheek.

  I was on the brink of coming when James flipped me over with the same passion he had in the coat check. He tugged on my hips, and I spread for him, looking back over my shoulder as he thrust into me from behind. He curved his body over mine, mimicking the shape of my body as he rode me passionately, kissing the back of my neck and biting my shoulder. My hips moved in sync to meet his until his pace grew to a speed that I could no longer muster. I flattened my stomach into the mattress, releasing all control as I let him plow into me with his virile strength. His weight fell on top of me, arms wrapped around my breasts, driving me closer to the edge of the bed with the fury of his thrusts. I cried out as he struck deep into my core, something beautiful and bold nearly breaking me in half.

  “Stop, stop,” I breathed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I–” What are you going to say, Elle? That he’s too good at sex and you think you might kill him because of it?

  “Do you want me to stop?” James pulled out and I flipped to my back and looked up at him.

  “I don’t want to be a tease and not let you come.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question,” he said. “Do you want me to stop, Elle?” He was gazing at me so intensely that those eyes bore a hole into my heart. The fear had no choice but to subside.

  I could control myself for this man. I would.

  “No,” I breathed. “No, keep going. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t,” James kissed me, slipping readily back inside me as I wrapped my legs around his, “apologize. Just... enjoy... the ride.” He punctuated every word with a slow, deliberate thrust. “This okay?”

  “Mmm,” I acknowledged, honing in on the feeling of him deep inside me, of each slight graze of his nose against my skin, of his breath across my face.

  “Will you hold my wrists?” I asked, feeling self-conscious as I raised them above my head. “I want to try something.”

  His grip was firm as he took hold of each of my hands. I could’ve broken his hold without any real effort, but instead, I let my body sink back into the mattress and pretended that his masculinity was a match for my strength. I let it believe the lie that I was his to command.

  As I stared deep into his eyes, I felt my orgasm mounting, ready to tilt forward and hurtle me ever downward with a rush of speed and ecstasy. My body tensed with the fear, but I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to be afraid. I gasped, my limbs stiffening with caution, afraid to move or express the pleasure he was driving deep into me.

  I closed my eyes. “My choices are more powerful than my abilities,” I found myself mouthing to myself, “I am free to be my truest self.” I kept muttering wh
at I remembered of the mantras as I inched closer, not realizing until I opened my eyes that James was grinning down at me. “I’m weird,” I said, face flushing.

  “You choices are more powerful than your abilities,” he said bending down and kissing me fully, tongue dancing with mine. “And with me, you are always free to be your truest self.” His words fell into my mouth like some sort of magical incantation.

  “Do you want to get on top?” he asked.

  I didn’t want to ruin the spell. “No,” I said breathlessly. “Keep going. Harder.”

  James took good notes. His pace became rapid, nearly unbearable. I was sure I was going to burst out of my own body. He held my legs up, plowing into me and I watched as his body moved like a wave, his cock disappearing inside me over and over again. I leaned my head back into the pillows, using the headboard to press my hands into as he groaned. I was almost certainly going to leave fingerprints.

  The veins on James’ neck were bulging, his face heated as he bowed it down to mine, heavy pants falling across my face, lips parted and eyes far away. He released the sexiest moan as he cradled the back of my head, kissing me, his damp skin and smell all over me. With one last stunning thrust, I felt his cock throb inside of me as he came. The distance of his eyes, his thumb brushing sweetly against my face, his primal, naked body taking advantage of mine – it all hit me at once and I shook, letting the thrill of my orgasm roll over me in layers, back arched as I cried out.

  When my body finally stilled and the long breath I’d been taking found its way out of my lungs, James withdrew, collapsing next to me. I turned to him, loving the sheen of sweat that glazed his body.

  “Oh my god,” he sighed. “You are– Wow. That was so good. Was it for you?”

  I nodded, speechless. Oh my god, I thought. I had a killer O that didn’t kill him.

  Chapter Six

  “You got laid.”

  I slid my eyes to Des, who was staring at me with an unwavering look of expectation on her face, seeming especially sinister under the awful fluorescent bulbs of HQ. “Yep. I’m right, aren’t I,” she said.

  “No!” I said, sounding like a defensive teenager. “Maybe.”

  “Yes?” Dari suggested, and I nodded. “Knew it. Your aura,” she motioned vaguely around my whole body, “is full of goddess-like might.”

  “So... did you go full-on O?”

  “Full-on O? You make it sound like a state of being, Des.”

  “Because it is. Shut up, Elle. You totally had an orgasm!”

  Dari shrugged. “I didn’t feel anything. Must’ve been really low on the Richter scale. Or just well contained.”

  “Stop looking at me like that,” I said, cheeks warming. “I had an orgasm, okay? And it was great! But it’s still none of your business.”

  “It’s probably good it didn’t register,” Des lifted an eyebrow at Dari. “Means her partner has a chance at a repeat performance. Based on the way you haven’t mentioned you accidentally killed the guy, Elle, I’m assuming… you didn’t kill him?”

  “He’s alive, both heads fully intact,” I sighed. “Can we move on?”

  “Glad we held off naming you Praying Mantis,” Dari said under her breath.

  Des held out her hand without looking and Dari put a folder in it. “If you insist, move on, we shall. We have a problem to deal with anyway.” Des slammed the folder down, and it fell open as the desk shuddered on its uneven legs. “Coque has an accomplice we didn’t know about before.”

  “Balls?” Dari snickered.

  “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a John Foe. Everywhere Coque goes, this guy follows,” Des continued, expertly bulldozing Dari’s commentary.

  I peered over her shoulder as she spread the photos across the table’s surface, pointing accusingly at a shadowed figure in the back of every picture. I leaned in, squinting as the fluorescent above fluttered.

  “Any idea who he is?” I asked, picking up one of them and tilting it into the light.

  “We still don’t have an ID on John Foe, but we’ll have Ralphie run it through his facial recognition software. We’ll nail the guy soon enough.”

  “No need.” I swallowed thickly, dropping the photo back down on the table. “It’s James. The guy I slept with.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dari’s jaw drop and her hand slowly lift to cover her mouth. “Guess he really did get nailed.”

  Des shot Dari a warning glare and I closed my eyes. Of course it’d been too good to be true. It had only been a matter of time before the WishGranter’s side effect of sabotage caught up to me.

  “Dammit, Ralphie,” Des cursed. “I really thought that one just might go in your favor, Elle. I’m sorry.” She reached out to give me a hug and I lifted an arm to pat her on the back consolingly.

  “Maybe it just went in ours, though,” Dari said, coming out of her shock. “You’ve had no luck finding anything in your office to help us locate the off button for the device. Maybe you can use this guy to your advantage! I’m sure John Foe– sorry, James– will know where it is.”

  “But how the hell am I supposed to get that very specific information out of him?” I asked.

  “Let him touch your button. Again.”

  The thought of James touching me again, his fingertips dancing across my skin…

  Fuck, maybe this was all one big mistake. I desperately wanted it to be. I reached for my phone. What’re you doing tomorrow night? I typed, pressing send before I could think of the potential consequences of his answer.

  I watched as my text went through and the three dots bubbled up to indicate he was typing. Trying to ignore the heart palpitations I was sure I was having, I watched as if in slow motion as his reply appeared on the screen. I would love to see you, but I have to work. Have a big deadline at midnight.

  I held up my phone to show the team our exchange.

  Dari flicked off my phone. “Fuck that guy!”

  I sighed. Been there, done him.

  * * *

  After scuffling around the office for a few hours after midnight, I discerned that there truly was no evidence anywhere on file of a magical switch that would brainwash half of Metroshire’s population. I’d searched and searched again. The info wasn’t here.

  Left alone to wade through my more masochistic thoughts, I quickly realized that Giant Brainwashing Machine or not, I could not in good conscious see James again. I almost wanted to, though, just so I could lure him to bed and then sit on him really hard. That would’ve totally broken his dick.

  But breaking his dick – thinking about his dick – sent me to all kinds of bad places. Riled by my emotions, and facing the failure that was both my sleuthing skills and my ability to attract grounded and at least partially sane men, I decided the most efficient use of my time this close to D-Day was to go to the Arc myself.

  Luckily for me, it seemed that tonight they were feeling their misogyny was quite secure because there were no guards hanging around the premises. It’d been all too easy to sneak in – they’d even left the rear entrance unlocked for me even though the entire building was dark.

  Ding!

  I clicked into my texts to see a new message from James: Is it crazy I can’t stop thinking about you?

  I hung in the shadows trying not to roll my eyes. Ding!

  I wish we could meet up tomorrow, but the job is too important. After?

  “Like hell,” I scoffed.

  You notice my highlights and you have feelings? I typed back quickly. Are you sure you’re not a master manipulator and/or misogynistic psychopath?!?!??

  I backspaced on the last sentence. Took a deep breath. Are you sure you aren’t trying too hard to get back into my pants?

  Better. Probably still true.

  I clicked my screen off, blinking a few times as I fumbled around in the darkness and flipped on the night vision setting on my mask. The sound of footsteps neared and I pressed myself blindly into an alcove. A bright light appeared as someone turned the c
orner and I heard a soft chuckle. My insides churned.

  “Shit,” I muttered. I’d only been obsessing over that exact sound for the better part of a week.

  The clickity-clack of his keyboard echoed down the otherwise silent hall as James responded to my text, and I hurriedly switched my volume off. Things were definitely over now. As far as I was concerned, people who had their keyboard sounds turned on were up there with girls who wore fedoras to the airport.

  I wasn’t fast enough to hide my wrist behind my body before his message came in on my smartwatch though: Who’s slinging around the gender stereotypes now?

  The light burst across my face, and the bodiless head that was floating in his own smartphone glow on the opposite end of the hall looked up.

  I was officially the worst reconnaissance spy of all time. Here I’d caught him red-handed, all up in the schemes of Coque, and he had me exposed for what I was: super. I sighed. Guess this was happening tonight.

  “Who’s there?” James called.

  I stepped out from the shadows. “Well, this is pretty incriminating. You. Being here.”

  “Do I know you?” James frowned, moving closer and peering down the hallway at me. As I neared, I saw he was dressed in all black, the faux leather gleaming as the phone light bounced off of it.

  I let out a long breath. “Okay, that’s getting a little old.”

  “I do,” he said. “I know you. I remember your eyes.”

  “What a terrific memory you ha–”

  “You’re the woman from the masquerade. I never got your name.”

  I froze. He sounded so earnest that I couldn’t help but believe he really had no idea who I was: Elle, the simple but classic woman who’s vagina he’d just used as a hotel for his dick.

  “You left your mask behind–”

  “You stole it?” I accused.

  “No!” James raised both hands. “It looked expensive, so I took it and have been meaning to drop it by your office, but I’ve been busy–”