by M. S. Parker
He took two steps and dropped me onto my twin-sized bed. I looked up at him and, for the first time, wondered how we were both going to fit on the bed. Then his shirt was coming off and I didn't care if our feet hung off the end. I wanted him.
I scrambled out of my clothes as he finished undressing, tossing my panties and bra onto the floor while he watched. His eyes were dark with desire as he crawled onto the bed.
“I've been thinking about this all day. You, naked, spread out for me.” He leaned his body over mine, his cock hard and hot against my hip. He pressed his mouth against the side of my neck, lips and teeth worrying at the skin there until I knew he'd leave a mark. I'd need to make sure I covered it tomorrow before work. One hand held his balance as the other went to my breast. His fingers played with my nipple until it was a point and the skin was tingling. When he moved his head lower and took the hardened flesh into his mouth, I moaned.
I closed my eyes, giving myself over to the hot suction of his mouth. His hand slid over my ribcage and down between my legs. I cried out as he pushed one finger inside me and then another. I was wet, but still tight enough that it didn't move easily. After a few strokes, I began to move against his hand, wanting friction a little higher. Instead, he pushed himself up off of me.
“Condom?” he asked.
I blinked, trying to clear away some of the fog. I pointed toward the table next to my bed. He opened the top drawer, tore the wrapper and rolled the condom on without a word. It wasn't until he was spreading my legs apart and settling between them that he spoke.
“You're gorgeous like this, you know.” He bent his head and flicked his tongue over one nipple, then the other. “Nipples hard, face flushed.”
He reached between us and the head of his cock nudged against my entrance. I told my body to relax, but there was still a pinch of pain as he plunged inside. There hadn't been nearly enough foreplay and, as he continued to push forward, I slid my hand between us, my fingers finding my clit and beginning to rub. The familiar circular motion helped me relax and allowed my body to stretch to accommodate him.
“Your cunt is so tight.” He groan as he bottomed out. “Feels so good around my cock.”
Before I was ready, he started to move and I gasped, my free hand grabbing onto his arm. “Wait, wait.”
He made an impatient sound, but did as I asked. My fingers worked over my clit until I began to feel heat spreading through me and then I nodded. He drew back and then thrust forward, drawing a half-moan from me. Another half dozen strokes and he moved to his knees, his hands grasping my hips. This time, when he drove into me, I was open and ready. There was no pain, just the pleasurable rubbing of him against me, filling me, adding to the electric sensations coming from where my fingers were still playing over that swollen bundle of nerves. I'd gotten a later start and knew it would be a little while longer before I was at the edge, but I could already see Brock's climax approaching.
“Slow down,” I said. “I'm not there yet.”
His pace didn't lessen. He leaned over me, putting his hands on either side of my waist and the change in position pressed his pelvic bone against where my fingers had been moments before. My eyelids fluttered as my body flooded with pleasure. That was what I needed. Every time he surged forward, he hit that spot just right and sent a jolt through me.
Just as I'd started to feel the pressure inside me building, Brock's hips jerked against me and he let out a sound that was half-way between a groan and a grunt. He slumped over me for a moment and I looked up at him, surprised. My pussy throbbed as he slid out of me and rolled onto his back. My entire body was tense with build-up, my teeth gritted with frustration.
Brock tipped his head to look at me. “Damn that was good.”
My eyebrows went up. Was he serious? I wasn't stupid enough to think that every encounter was going to be good, but he hadn't even made an effort to make sure I got off.
“Did you come?” he asked, almost as an afterthought. When I didn't say anything, he gave me a sheepish smile. “I'd like to watch you finish.”
If my body hadn't been screaming for release, I might've told him to go to hell, and as it was I was seriously considering it. Instead, I leaned back, closed my eyes and slid my hand down between my legs. It didn't take much, just a few minutes of attention and my muscles tightened.
With my climax came physical pleasure, but there was something missing. Even though I'd had sex with Brock and he was still right there, I felt the same way I did after masturbating alone. I opened my eyes and saw Brock watching me.
“That was fucking hot.” He ran his finger down my arm. “You want me to stay? Give me an hour and I'll be ready for another round.”
I sat up and shook my head, suddenly annoyed. “I have to work tomorrow. Double shift.” That much was true, but it wasn't the real reason I didn't want him to stay. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” Brock said. He stood and began gathering his clothes. “So that means I'll see you Friday?”
I nodded and stood as well. I smiled up at him and he leaned down to kiss me. It was a good, thorough kiss, leaving my knees trembling. His hand cupped my face and he was looking at me so tenderly.
“Text me on your breaks?” Brock asked as he tucked hair behind my ear.
“I will.”
I walked him to the door where he gave me another kiss, another one that nearly melted my knees. Where was this man ten minutes ago? The one kissing me so passionately, so thoroughly, taking his time?
After he left, I headed for the shower to think about what had happened. I didn't exactly have a lot of experience with guys and I knew from my experience with my ex-boyfriend that it wasn't exactly uncommon for the guy to orgasm before the girl, but at least Luc had been concerned about whether or not I'd come. I'd lied to him, not wanting him to feel bad that he'd never been able to make me climax, but considering how attentive Brock had been before, I honestly thought he'd take care of me with his fingers or mouth, especially considering how little foreplay I'd gotten.
He said he'd been thinking about me all day, I reasoned as I stepped under the hot spray. Maybe he'd been embarrassed that he'd come so quickly, or maybe he'd really just wanted to watch me do it myself? I sighed, once again at war with myself and the feelings I had toward this man. Could I really judge him based on one lukewarm sexual encounter? Was that really a good reason to be annoyed with him?
I frowned as I squirted some floral-scented shampoo into my hand and then began to work it through my hair. No, I decided, that wasn't why I was annoyed. Sex with Luc had been mediocre at best, but it hadn't really affected how I'd felt about him. It was that feeling I'd had just after I'd come tonight, I realized. That lack of connection. I liked Brock, but there hadn't been any of that spark between us. What I didn't know was if it had been that way before and I just hadn't noticed because at least then, the sex had been good. Was it possible that we hadn't truly connected any of the other times we'd slept together and I’d only been fooling myself?
I rinsed my hair and then reached for my conditioner. The question was, did a connection like that really matter? Reed and I had a connection from the first moment we'd touched. A lot of good that had done us. At least with Brock, I knew who he really was, and the connection would come with time. When like turned into love, we'd have I; I was sure of it, but for that to happen, things couldn't keep going the way they were now. Something had to change.
Chapter 9
I didn't really have the money to spend on fancy food, but I managed to find room in my budget to make a lasagna from my mom's recipe. A loaf of Italian bread and a bottle of cheap wine, and I was going to be eating Ramen noodles for a while. Still, it meant I could have Brock and Julien over for a home-cooked meal on their last night in Vegas, and I was looking forward to it. I owed Julien a thank you for sticking up for me after the strip club incident, and I wanted to make sure Brock knew I wasn't angry about how things had ended up the other night.
I had given our re
lationship a lot of thought and when I looked at everything we’d had together, the positives far outweighed the negative.
The first batch of roses Brock had given me were starting to wilt, so I put those aside to dry and set the newer ones as a center piece after moving from the water pitcher to the nearly empty vase. I'd spent the entire day cleaning so that when the guys arrived, my shabby little place actually didn't look too bad. Of course, I'd had ulterior motives for the excessive cleaning since Rosa would be back tomorrow evening and I was going to have to break some news to her.
“That smells fantastic,” Julien announced as he entered the apartment. “What are we having?”
“Lasagna,” I said as I accepted the wine he offered. It was much better than what I had. I felt a stab of embarrassment and pushed it aside. I'd give the cheaper stuff to Rosa. A parting gift.
“We're starved,” Brock said as he kissed my cheek in greeting. “We had a guys' night out and didn't get in until like seven this morning, so we pretty much slept the day away.”
Julien glanced at me. “We went to a fight and then hit a couple casinos.”
I nodded as if I hadn't been picturing the two of them covered with half-naked strippers. I started for the kitchen. “Make yourselves comfortable. This'll be done in a few minutes.”
I was surprised at how well dinner went considering the awkwardness that had happened when we'd been together before. The three of us hadn't managed a single meal without it turning into something embarrassing and rude. Tonight, however, the conversation was kept light, with Julien regaling us with stories of some of the crazier things he'd done in his early twenties.
After we'd finished, I brought out the last thing I'd bought with the last of my tip money: a cherry pie. I confessed that pie making was beyond my skills and Julien revealed that he actually knew how to make an excellent pie crust.
“Okay, this I have to hear,” I said as I served out a slice to each of us.
“Well, remember how I said I spent some time in France?” He took a bite of his pie and then nodded in approval. “Well, I met this pastry chef in Milan and she spent a couple months teaching me everything she knew.”
“Everything?” Brock asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
Julien rolled his eyes. “She was in her forties.”
Brock grinned. “For all I know, you got a thing for cougars.”
“Jerk,” Julien muttered.
I took a drink of my wine. We were getting to the end of the meal and I didn't know where we were going to go from here, which meant if I wanted to make my announcement, it needed to be soon. As the conversation hit a lull after Brock's comment, I figured now was as good a time as any.
“I've been thinking.” My voice sounded loud in my ears and I twisted my fingers together. “And if you still want me to move back to Philadelphia, I will.”
Brock's eyes lit up as he leaned over and kissed me. The enthusiasm caught me off guard and he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into my mouth. I kissed him back, but broke away as his hand slid down my arm and moved to my breast. My face was burning and I couldn't look at Julien. I was comfortable with some PDA, but I knew how it felt to be the third person in a room where a couple was making out. It was awkward to say the least.
“If I make some calls, I might be able to get you a ticket on tomorrow's flight,” Brock said. “Julien and I can help you pack tonight.”
I held up a hand. “Whoa. I can't leave tomorrow. I have to wait to talk to Rosa and get things settled here. At the very least, I'll need a week.”
“Okay,” Brock nodded. He was beaming. “I'll start looking around for apartments.”
I suppressed a sigh. I was glad he was happy, but we were going to have to have a serious talk before he left tomorrow. He didn't quite seem to get the fact that there was no way I could afford an apartment in the city. Unless... my stomach flipped. Was he going to give me the ten thousand dollars he'd mentioned back at the wedding? I still wasn't sure how I felt about that.
I stood. “If you'll excuse me, I have to use the restroom.”
Brock stood as well, grabbing me in a tight embrace before I walked away. “I'm so glad you're coming back. You won't regret it.”
I gave him a tight smile.
“I bet when we first met, you never thought you'd be moving back to Philadelphia because of me.”
I shook my head. “No, I definitely did not.” I didn't add that if I'd thought of moving back at all, it would've been with Reed. I excused myself again and headed back to the bathroom. Before I closed the door, I heard Julien speak.
“You know, you never did tell me how the two of you met.”
I flushed, closing the door quickly. I'd assumed that Julien had already known the story. I didn't want to hear it. After I was done, I opened the door, but didn't go out into the hallway. I wanted to make sure Brock had already finished sharing before I went back into the main area.
“So, you just decided that this stripper you'd hired for your brother-in-law's bachelor party was hot and it was a good idea to ask her to come with you to your sister's wedding?”
As I listened to Brock laugh, I became curious. Aside from not wanting to be there when he told Julien about our meeting, I now realized this was a good way for me to find out Brock's original motivation behind his invitation.
“No way,” Brock said. “I thought she was hot and wanted to fuck her.”
No surprise there, I thought. He'd been pretty drunk that night.
“Okay,” Julien sounded puzzled. “How'd you go from that to wedding date?”
Brock laughed again and there was a new edge to it. “Never planned that part of it. I only did that because Reed caught me trying to fuck her and I figured I'd better make an apology look good or he'd be pissed.”
My stomach roiled and I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick.
“I don't understand. Why would it matter to Reed if you were trying to sleep with the stripper?”
“Because,” Brock said. “She wasn't exactly conscious at the time.”
He laughed and I shuddered, the pure evil in his voice vibrating deep within my bones.
“She wasn't like the other one, willing to fuck for some extra cash, so I gave her some incentive by way of a roofie in her water.” He paused, then added, “Bitch never knew what hit her.”
To be continued in Sinful Desires Vol. 4, coming Oct 20th
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Acknowledgement
First, I would like to thank all of my readers. Without you, my books would not exist. I truly appreciate each and every one of you.
A big “thanks” goes out to all my Facebook fans, street team, beta readers, and advanced reviewers. You are a HUGE part of the success of my series.
I have to thank my PA, Shannon Hunt. Without you my life would be a complete and utter mess. Also a big thank you goes out to my editor Lynette and my wonderful cover designer, Sinisa. You make my ideas and writing look so good.
About The Author
M. S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.
Living in Southern California, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.
Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.
When M. S. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading– oops, scratch that! She is always writing. ☺
M. S. Parker, Sinful Desires: Vol. III