Sweet Keeper (Sweet Talkers Book 1)

by Thalia Sanchez

  “You’re fucking amazing, Bree,” he says.

  I can’t help the smile that draws on my face.

  Cuddling against him, I feel his chest rise and fall peacefully. In this moment, in the middle of an empty and dark parking lot, I know Stanley is probably the only one keeping me sane from the constant chaos that surrounds me.

  If I had the chance to choose my permanent future, I know that everything would be uncertain, except for him. Stanley would be permanent for me.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Stanley’s hand intertwines with mine as he parks. The red neon sign has the letters “MANTRA” in the front, inviting the public to come in, acting like a beacon, attracting people to its deck. Beside me, Stanley has a permanent smile, and I’m sure that I look the same. The sweet memory of what happened in the car half an hour ago makes a warm wave spread through my system, lust making its way back, reminding me that I haven’t felt this connection to anyone before.

  Everything happened weirdly. Not that I’m complaining. We’ve never been the traditional kind. Ever since the beginning, we were destined to be a different kind. This chemistry that we have was unexpected. Hell, if someone had told me that my feelings would have a name by November, I would’ve laughed. But now I don’t resist what I feel. It’s hard to do it when every ounce of my system is yearning for him, screaming to keep him close.

  It’s crazy that I have such strong feelings towards him when two months ago, we could barely stand each other. I continuously remember our first interaction at the party when I still thought that he was a selfish asshole. It feels like it was centuries ago, and I was wrong to judge him when I didn’t even know who he was deep down.

  Stanley McKinley is probably the best guy I’ve ever met in my life. I enjoy his presence, our banters, and the way we can talk about anything and everything at the same time. He accepts everything that I am without judging me.

  Stan is everything that I needed before I realized that I wanted him in my life.

  As he turns off the car, my curiosity increases, wanting to understand why Stanley is so fond of this place. It’s a bar. It looks like any other bar from the outside. What makes this any different?

  “Why this place?” I question, genuinely intrigued to know.

  Stanley told me that he had visited this place more times than he can remember. On our way here, he expressed how much this place distracts him when he’s not feeling okay, and that is a safe haven from all of the craziness that can surround him. But I don’t get why.

  “Why not?” he retorts, tilting his head.

  “C’mon, don’t act all mysterious now. You’re an open book,” I pressure him.

  He raises a brow. “You sure about that?”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Please?” I pout, hoping to get an answer from him.

  Instead of talking to me, Stanley opens his door and gets out of the car.

  “Are you coming?” he interrogates.

  “Not now, but probably later,” I tease him as I imitate his movements.

  The parking lot is dark, and there’s music blasting inside of the bar. It’s so loud that I can hear it from my position, and it makes me question why people like to go to a place where they can’t communicate.

  Stanley offers me his hand, waiting for me to get out of my disbelief that this is a haven for him. I’m not opposed to the idea of going to a bar with him because I’d follow him to the ends of the world if I’m honest. However, it’s an antithesis to his personality. He’s calm and quiet, while this place is loud and intense.

  “Just wait,” he comments, winking.

  “Am I going to get an answer?”

  Stan rolls his eyes with annoyance.

  “Yes, Miss Impatience.”

  I chuckle at the nickname because it couldn’t be more real. I’m an impatient person. I’m always on the tip of my toes, waiting for what comes next, and I need to know at least the basics of every situation, so my anxiety doesn’t eat me alive. It’s contradictory because I’m an unusually impulsive person for someone so anxious.

  I grab his hand, allowing his warmth to fill me.

  I’m taken by surprise when Stanley doesn’t walk towards the door. Instead, he surrounds the building, guiding me to the darker sidewall.

  “Is this where you’re going to kill me?” I break the silence between us.

  Stan snorts.

  “No, Bree. The stairs for the roof are here,” he explains softly.

  Stairs?

  “Wait, we’re not going in?”

  He shakes his head. “I told you we weren’t, but we can stop by later. They usually play live music on weekends.”

  Although I want to find out what kind of music, I decide not to question everything and follow him to the stairs on the wall. He helps me up, making sure that I’m not going to fall and crack my head open. I let out a gasp when I make it to the roof.

  Wow.

  Now I can get why he’s obsessed with this place. The view is breathtaking. You can see the city line, hundreds of lights blending with the dark sky. You can’t see the stars due to the contamination, but it’s still beautiful. The city is shining, almost resembling the thousands of cosmos that should decorate the darkness above us.

  It’s beautiful.

  I step to the edge of the ceiling, enjoying the cold wind tense my cheeks.

  “Holy shit,” I mumble. “This is… Just wow.”

  Stanley stands behind me, covering my tiny figure with his large one. His arms wrap around me, hugging me from my back, and I shrink against his body. I love the feeling surrounding us at this moment.

  “Do you like it?” he whispers in my ear.

  I nod.

  “Yes, I love it,” I respond with honesty. “Why do you love it, though?”

  I hear him sigh.

  “It reminds me of home. Mom always drove to the highest point, and we sat in the car to watch the city line. Here I don’t have many things that remind me of home, but I found this place, and I enjoy it.”

  There’s a trace of vulnerability on his words, mixing with nostalgia. He’s homesick. I can’t comprehend how he must feel being away from home. I’ve never been truly away from my family, but I can only imagine how much I’d miss them. Stanley had already confessed that he’s close to his family. This must be why he finds this so comforting.

  “It’s beautiful, Stan.”

  “Just like me, huh?” he quips.

  I laugh and pinch his arm.

  “Don’t ruin the moment, dumbass,” I scold him.

  Stanley doesn’t take my words seriously. Instead, he guides a hand to my ribs to pinch me, but I can only feel a tickle that makes me jump away from him. A yelp mixed with laughter escapes from my lips.

  Immediately, his gaze transforms into a malicious one. I’m not sure of how I was able to hide it from him before, but now that he knows, he won’t let it go. Hell, I bet that it will become a thing to mess with me.

  “You’re ticklish, huh.”

  I shrug to pass it off as something without relevance. In a way, it is. However, I don’t want him to think that I’m excessively ticklish—which I am—because I’m not ready to endure that kind of torture.

  “If you try to tickle me, you’ll end up with a black eye,” I warn him, raising my arms. “These bad boys act on their own.”

  He smirks.

  “We’ll see, Bree,” Stan muses as he hugs me again. “Do you really like it?”

  I smile at his insecurity, so I stand on the tip of my boots to kiss him briefly.

  “Yes. I truly like it,” I assure, pressing my lips against his for a second. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

  “Anytime, Bree.” He drops a kiss on my forehead. “Do you want to stay here for a bit, or do you want to go home?”

  As much as I want to jump on his bones again, I’m compelled to stay here. I want to treasure the fact that he shared this special place for him with me, and I can only do it by spending som
e time here. Plus, I can’t lie. I really do love the view, so much that I wished I had my camera with me to immortalize this moment.

  So, instead of fetching for my phone, I make sure to remember all the details of this moment. That way, I can replay this in my mind when I feel uneasy. Because this moment right here, with his arms around me and my heart beating fast, is when I feel the most at peace.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I take Bree to her apartment after going to Mantra. She drags me with her inside to make use of the time that we have alone. As soon as we enter her room, her mouth is on mine, kissing me vehemently. Her hands go to the back of my head as her fingers play with the strands of my hair, pulling it gently, causing a groan to emerge from me when the sensation turns satisfying.

  My hands fly to her waist, lifting her from the floor, and her legs wrap around my hips. It amazes me how she’s able to read my body, what we need, and what we’re about to repeat. This time, I want to take my time with her. I want to explore her anatomy, find the sweet spots that make her shiver, and absorb all of her pure and delightful moans.

  We close the door behind us, walking blindly to her bed. I vaguely remember its position from when I visited her room on Halloween, so I have no problems locating the mattress. I lay her down carefully. The last thing that I want is to knock her out accidentally. With her luck, is something that could happen.

  I get rid of my shirt, taking it off and throwing it away to a corner that I’m not interested in. She’s all I care about right now.

  Bree supports her weight on her elbows, gathering the view of my naked torso. She bites her lip and invites me to join her with her index finger. In an instant, I climb on top of her, my mouth frantically searching for hers. Our lips dance incandescently. There’s no calm or gentleness in the way that we kiss. It’s like we’re both poisoned, and our mouths have the antidote.

  I trace her upper lip with the tip of my tongue, savoring her. Her lips taste sweet; I’m not sure if it’s due to the drink she had or if it’s something else, but I don’t care. I fucking enjoy it. I devour her mouth as if it was the most desired treat.

  Breaking off the kiss, I earn a whimper from her. I ignore it, traveling down to the extension of her neck. I bite the sensitive skin in the most delicate way, and pass the zone with my tongue, easing away the sting of it. She quivers under me, her hips rising from the bed, looking for me.

  “Easy,” I say, staring at her. Bree has her cheeks red, and pupils dilated. Her lips are swollen with need, inviting me to go back and give them my full attention, but there are more parts of her body that I haven’t visited and are waiting for me. “We have time for everything.”

  “You do know that my patience is the size of a grain of salt, right?”

  I hold back a snicker.

  “Waiting is fun,” I insist, but the only truth that my words carry is that it gives me time to tease her and turn her into a whimpering hot disaster.

  “You know what else is fun? Orgasms.”

  This time I can’t help it, and I laugh, almost snorting. It’s proper of her to say something like that.

  “And you could have more than one if you weren’t so impatient.”

  Bree arches a brow.

  “More than one? We’re getting a little cocky, aren’t we?” she mumbles mockingly.

  “Babe, I am cocky,” I assure, and push my groin against her so she can feel my growing erection.

  She rolls her eyes, but her furrowed brows let me know that I’ve affected her in the right way.

  “Cocky as you are, I don’t think I’m able to come twice,” Bree states.

  I tilt my head.

  “Was that a dare?” I quip, and she shrugs. “Because I may have to prove you otherwise.”

  Her eyes roam my face as a devilish grin appears on her lips.

  “Do it.”

  I shut her up with a kiss, sliding my tongue inside her mouth, caressing hers. She drowns a moan in the kiss when one of my hands’ adventures under the fabric of her dress, going directly to her pussy. Reluctantly, I stray away, sitting on my heels. I tuck on the material that covers her, and Bree helps me to get rid of it. I’m watching her almost naked for the first time and curse me if this isn’t the best thing that I’ve seen.

  Fucking hell.

  She’s not voluptuous, doesn’t have porn start tits or a huge ass, but she’s still perfect to me. A black and purple lacy bra covers her breasts, and it matches with her panties. She’s stunning. The view is better than I could ever imagine.

  I’m hard as a stone by just looking at her.

  With a finger, I draw an invisible line that goes from her neck. It descends to her chest and rests in the valley of her tits. I anchor it on the clasp of the center, biting my lip with desire. Her skin gets goosebumps with my touch, letting me know that she’s as affected as I am.

  I unclasp her bra and…

  “Damn.”

  My mouth waters and my dick pulsates against my pants.

  Leaning over, I pull a hardened nipple into my mouth, wrapping it with my lips. I suck gently, stealing a moan that travels directly to my cock. I’m sure that, if I hadn’t talked so much before seeing this, I’d rush to get inside of her. But now I have to endure my torture.

  “Stan,” Bree whispers, her hands traveling to my hair, her fingers disheveling it to her liking. Her purpose is to maintain my mouth on her breasts.

  It’d take a whole catastrophe to pull me away from her because now that I’ve gotten a taste of her skin, it would be almost impossible for me to leave her. I lick, suck and bite her hardened nubs, alternating between her nipples to give them equal attention. Bree whimpers and writhes under my body, occasionally raising her hips to see if she can get some liberating friction, but I still refuse to touch her pussy.

  “You’re delicious,” I assure, letting go of her nipple for a second, only to return to it as I watch her.

  Bree’s focused on my movements, keeping the visual contact that burns us, almost pouring intensity. She’s continuously biting her lip, trying to hold back her sounds.

  “Fuck, Stan. I need you,” she pleads.

  “What do you need, baby?” I question, teasing her, expecting to get more from her.

  “Your fingers, your mouth, whatever you want, but more to the south.”

  “Whatever I want?” I inquire and arch a brow.

  Bree rolls her eyes.

  “Just do something.”

  “You’re bossy,” I comment.

  A scoff emerges from her lips.

  “If I was that bossy, you’d be with your back on the bed as I ride you, but I’m allowing you to have your fun, aren’t I?”

  Well, I’ll be damned because the image that forms in my head is more than satisfactory. My dick is more than happy to think about it. However, there’s still something that I haven’t done, and I need to explore it with my mouth.

  Giving one last suck, I free her breasts and pull away, taking her panties off in one swift move. The little devil parts her legs further, letting me see every inch of her, and I can’t resist but groan at the view.

  Bree’s wet—no, she’s soaking and dripping, and it’s all for me.

  I lick my lips, anxious to slide my tongue there, but I resist, testing the field. I lead a hand to her pussy, caressing it, feeling the wetness that coats her. The tip of my middle finger travels her slit until it meets her clit, doing a couple of circles. Then it continues its way down, sliding inside of her. She’s so wet and slick that I can insert a second digit without a problem.

  Bree pants and closes her eyes, clutching them together as my fingers pump inside of her in a torturing slow rhythm. She moves her hips, meeting my fingers, leaving me completely hypnotized.

  This girl.

  “More,” she begs in a moan.

  Who am I to deny her what she wants?

  Lowering my mouth to her pussy, I kiss her swollen clit, sucking it softly. My tongue slips out, sliding over her slit, going from
the bottom, all the way to the top, meeting her needy nub. My fingers continue working inside of her as my tongue licks her.

  Bree presses a hand on her mouth, abstaining from moaning too loud. I have to admit that her noises are hot, and I adore them mostly because I’m the one causing them. I continue to taste her, my fingers pumping until her legs tremble around my shoulders. The walls of her pussy squeeze my digits with every wave of ecstasy that runs along her body. She arches her back and lets out the prettiest noises as she breaks with the orgasm. I make her company in her release until she pushes me away, whimpering.

  “Too sensitive,” Bree whispers in pants.

  I take out my wet fingers, and I take them to my mouth, licking them clean, enjoying her taste.

  “I love the way your pussy tastes,” I tell her.

  Bree laughs, delighted.

  “Who would’ve thought that you had a dirty mouth?” she mutters, trying to calm her breaths.

  I cock my head.

  “You know what they say, quiet in the streets and a freak in the sheets.”

  She snorts.

  “You’re lucky that I don’t have the concentration to think of a comeback, dumbass,” Bree complains.

  “Aw, am I too much for your smartass mouth?” I quip, faking a pout.

  “Ugh, fuck off.”

  I get rid of my shoes to take off my pants and my underwear. Bree takes the change to put her boots away and searches for a condom in her nightstand. I accept the chance to lay on the bed with my back leaning on the wall.

  Bree climbs on top of me, wrapping her hand around my shaft, stroking me a couple of times, sending my head to a spiral of pleasure. But that’s nothing compared to when her lips surround the tip of my cock.

  “Fuck,” I pronounce through gritted teeth, grabbing a hand full of her hair to prevent it from getting in the way.

  She sucks me, and her head bobs up and down my length as her hand strokes the part that she can’t take. The sensation sends me to hell and back. Her tongue licks the extension of my shaft, and she pulls away with a proud look, opening the condom. And she should be because that was insanely hot.