by Bailey B
Danika trails her fingers across the marks marring my back. She kisses my collar bone, my shoulder, my neck; her nails grazing over each scar. I never realized how sensitive the skin is. The sensation sweeping through me isn’t necessarily bad. Just different.
“You okay?”
I kiss that sweet spot on her neck, making her squeal again. “You stole my line.”
Danika pulls her shirt off then unbuckles my belt, looking me directly in the eye. “I’m good.” She slips her hand down my pants. Her fingers wrap around me and I fight to stay in control.
I reach behind her back and unclasp her bra. I shove it out of the way and suck her nipple between my lips. Danika moans, her back arching and fists my hair with her free hand. I pepper her chest with kisses, up to her neck, then whisper, “Baby, you’ve got to stop or I’m going to cum.”
Danika pushes me onto my back and smirks. “Are you, now?”
With the grace of a ninja, Danika whips me out of my pants and sucks me into her mouth. I mumble “Jesus” because the girl’s got a mouth like a Hoover vacuum.
“Fuck, baby.” I moan. “I’m about to cum…”
She sucks harder. Deeper. And takes every bit of my seed, swallowing. I lie there, stunned. That was by far the best blowjob I’ve ever had. The fact that it came from Danika makes it even better.
“Holy fuck,” I whisper, lifting my head to see where my queen went. Yup. After that performance, she’s been promoted to queen, and I am but her humble servant.
Danika sits cross legged beside me with a grin a mile wide. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and chuckles. “Tangy.”
“Is it just me, or is this pool way better than yours?” Danika relaxes in a blue and white lounge chair nestled on the deck of the rooftop infinity pool.
I chuckle into the rim of my beer bottle and take the last sip. You know the best thing about being Sheriff in a small town? You can do whatever the fuck you want. Such as give your nephew and his girlfriend fake-IDs that match perfectly to their drivers licenses, except for the birthdays. Yeah. He’s that good.
I set my empty bottle on the little table beside me then fold my arms behind my head. “Mine is better.”
Danika rolls onto her side. “Oh, yeah. Why’s that?”
I was going to say because we can go skinny dipping, but the poolside waitress checks on us. Again. The girl is very attentive. Annoyingly so. She picks up my beer and Danika’s empty glass. “Want another?”
“Yes, please,” Danika replies, with an innocence that almost gives us away.
I lift my Oakley’s and smile up at the girl. She’s pretty in that wears too much make-up, tries too hard kind of way. I glance at her nametag, which sits over her tiny chest, and purr her name. “Mariella. That’s a pretty name.”
Danika rolls her eyes and turns onto her back, adjusting herself in the sun. Any other girl would be pissed. Accuse me of flirting—which I kind of am— and probably throw a fit. Not my girl. She knows I’m one-hundred percent hers and there’s nothing to worry about.
Mariella bats her thick lashes, which are probably fake. Her red lips lift at the corners as she gives me a once over. Here, in a town where no one but Danika knows me, I don’t bother wearing my undershirt at the pool. Danika has already seen my scars, both real and emotional. She’s not ashamed of them, I shouldn’t be either.
Mariella takes Danika’s empty glass and my bottle. I follow her as she walks back towards the poolside bar. “Hey,” I say, quickening my pace to be beside her. “I have a question.”
“No,” she replies, her lips lifting at the corners. “You can’t have my number.”
This just got awkward. I rub the back of my neck and smirk. “Not what I was looking for.”
Mariella blushes and looks down at her hands. “Oh, sorry.” She clears her throat and meets my gaze again. “It’s my first day here. A lot of people have asked me for it. What’s up?”
“You look to be about our age, I want to take my girl out tonight. Any suggestions?”
Mariella arches a brown and gives me a once over, really studying my features this time. “How old are you? Really?”
“Twenty-one,” I say, flashing her my signature crooked grin.
“Alright,” Mariella says on an exhale. She grabs a bar square and scribbles an address onto it. “Here. Tell them Ria sent you and you’ll have no problems getting in. If you do, hand the bouncer the napkin.”
“Thanks.” I turn back to the pool when she whistles, grabbing my attention.
“Don’t you want your drinks?”
47
Danika
The driver stops in front of a dimly lit building on a dark street. Aside from a big man guarding a door, there’s no one outside. No signs of life. This street—Wicker Street—looks like the kind of place where people get stabbed and left to die. The tiny hairs on my body bristle. I don’t like it here.
“Are you sure this is right?” I ask the driver, a middle aged Hispanic woman.
“Si. Yes. 1800 Wicker street,” she says.
Logan takes my hand and brings the palm to his lips, wrapping a thin blanket of comfort around me. “Relax, baby. Tonight is supposed to be fun.”
Logan gets out of the car first and holds the door. I huddle close to his body. He’s got all of the money and our IDs. Someone can’t sneak up and snatch my purse—because I don’t have one—but that doesn’t make me feel any safer.
The bouncer at the door looks down his nose at us. He’s huge. I’m not just talking large, even if his arms are the size of my head, but tall. The man fills the whole doorway and then some. He grunts and shakes his head. “I don’t think so, kid.”
“Ria sent us,” Logan says with a confidence I can only dream of having in a place like this.
Apparently, Ria was our poolside waitress, who’s shift conveniently ended right after her chat with Logan. Not gonna lie, I was grateful. I know Logan isn’t a cheater. He had plenty of opportunities to stray or break up with me in the six weeks we were kind of dating, but he stayed faithful. Even without the title of a boyfriend, he showed me that I’m the only one he wants. Unfortunately, knowing this doesn’t stop me from feeling jealous when pretty girls hit on him.
“Nice try,” the bouncer chuckles. “Go around front and wait in line like everyone else.”
This is a back entrance? I look around again at the unmarked doors and dumpsters. Makes a little more sense now. Except, why are we not at the front?
Logan fishes in his pocket for the napkin Ria gave him. He holds it out for the bouncer, who takes and inspects it. “You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch. You know that?”
“Does this mean we’re allowed in?” I ask.
The dude chuckles, shaking his large belly and steps to the side. “Yes, ma’am it does.”
When I think of a night club, I think of what you see in movies or TV shows. Flashing lights. Loud music. And lots of people. After walking through a dark hallway, that leads to a second story V.I.P. suite, this one is no different only everything isn’t so loud in the room we’re in.
A woman, wearing nothing but feathers and a bikini, brings a bottle of champagne to our table. She pops the cork as Logan says, “We didn’t order this.”
The woman ignores Logan, filling two skinny flutes with the bubbly liquid. “Compliments of the club.” She sets the remainder of the bottle in a bucket of ice then disappears.
Logan hands me a flute and then takes the other for himself. “Cheers.”
We clink our glasses together. The champagne is sweet, but not sickeningly so. I take a sip, whereas Logan tosses his glass back in one big gulp. He reaches for the neck of the bottle and refills his cup. “How much do you think something like this costs?”
I shrug. I’ve never been to a club. My guess is based on watching TV-shows and assuming they are right. “In a place like this, it's hard to say. A few hundred bucks maybe.”
Logan sips his drink this time and looks down at the mess of bodi
es crammed together, dancing and drinking. “Want to go down there?”
Not really. A club is an oversized party that’s not free, and we both know how I feel about parties. I would have rather stayed in our room. I don’t know what’s come over me lately. Maybe it's because I finally called Logan my boyfriend or maybe it’s because I said those three little words, but all I want to do is touch him. Everywhere. All the time. And I want him to touch me.
I set my drink on the table and reach for Logan’s hand. He turns, a playful grin tugging at his lips and sits on the couch again. I kick my leg over and sit on his lap. Logan’s hands find my waist and I thread my fingers through his hair.
“Places like this have cameras, baby,” Logan warns.
I’m not going to screw him although I’m sure said-cameras probably have recorded that kind of stuff before. I just want a kiss. One kiss and then we’ll drink and we’ll dance and we’ll forget everyone else in the world exists.
48
Logan
We stumble into our room, hours later. Danika heads straight for the window again, pulling back the curtains and staring out at the vast darkness of the ocean. I find the couch and kick my shoes off. My feet hurt. We ended up going down into the crowd to dance and once Danika started, she didn’t want to stop.
I lie back and rest my head against the cushions, not daring to close my eyes. If I do, the world will spin and my night will be over. I drank too much, hell we both did, because everything was free. When I see Ria again this week, I’m giving her a huge tip. Tonight was amazing.
Danika crawls onto my lap, one leg on either side of me. She smells of smoke and alcohol and somehow still of rosewater. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her face to mine; crashing my mouth onto hers, which she willingly opens. If my head wasn’t already spinning from all the liquor, it would be from the way she’s kissing me.
I taste her desire. Feel her wetness through her paper thin panties on my leg despite wearing pants. The way she’s rocking her hips on me, I know without a doubt she can feel how much I want her too.
My hands roam her body, skirting up her stomach, across her braless chest, and eventually tugging her dress over her head. Don’t ask me when or how, but my shirt ends up haphazardly across the room too.
Danika grasps onto the back of my neck and sucks on my bottom lip. My mind fogs, lust and desire swirling in it. I moan into her mouth and cup both of her massive tits with my hands.
Danika’s head drops to my shoulder, a soft “Jesus” leaving her lips.
I lift her nipple to my lips, swirling my tongue around the taught nub while sucking. She moans again. Arching. Digging her nails into my arms. My head is buzzing, pulse pumping blood to my cock. Too much more of her grinding on me and I’m going to explode like a pre-teen with his first hard on. “I need a minute.”
“Stop talking,” Danika’s mouth brushes against my earlobe. Her warm wet lips send a jolt straight to my pants. “Stop thinking. I want this. I want you Logan. All of you.”
In one swift motion, I lift her and lay her back on the couch. I kiss her slowly, devouring her lips. Cherishing this moment and committing it to memory. Danika hooks her legs around my waist while simultaneously dropping my pants and boxers to my ankles. I pull back, looking her dead in the eye. We’ve had a lot of big moments in the past twenty-four hours. Boyfriend. I love you. While I’m dying to screw her, sex doesn’t have to be thrown into the mix just yet. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”
Danika cups my cheeks in both hands. “I know, but I need you to satisfy the ache rippling through me. Please.”
I nod, kissing her quickly. Danika sits up onto her elbows and watches me walk across the room to my duffle bag. I open the new box of condoms I bought—just in case—and rip one free of its wrapper. “Do you want to move to the bed?”
Danika shakes her head and pushes her panties down to her ankles. “No. I like it here.”
I roll the rubber over my cock and lean over her again. The only time I’ve ever been the slightest bit nervous to have sex was my first time. I was fifteen, drunk and did nothing but lay there while the girl rode me. I thought about everything—football plays, cars, World of Warcraft—whatever I could to keep myself from coming in 2.5 seconds.
The nerves I felt that night are nothing compared to what I’m feeling now.
I spread Danika’s legs, feeling her shudder. “You okay?”
She nods wordlessly. I stare at her waiting for her to change her mind. We’ve never talked about how far she’s gone with guys before. I’ve never wanted to know because she’s always seemed so virginal to me. Until the last few days. “If you ever want to stop, just tell me. Okay?”
She nods again, swallowing hard.
I lift her legs onto my shoulders and slide Danika closer by the hips until my tongue kisses her warm, wet folds. She gasps, back arching at the first lick. I feel her instinctively pulling away, but I hold her in place, licking ever bit of the honey seeping out of her. Her legs shake and I can tell she’s getting closer. I pull my face back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, then slide a finger in her.
Danika claws at the pillow as I move one finger inside her and then two. Her tight muscles clench around me and I can’t take it any longer. I line the head of my dick up with her opening and hesitate a beat.
Danika’s panting, her body glistening with sweat. She bites her lip, those wide brown Bambi eyes almost sending me over the edge. “What are you waiting for?”
Nothing. She has told me more than once she wants this. The moment she says otherwise, I’ll stop. I ease the tip in and pause, letting her stretch around me. She’s so tight my dick feels like it’s being squeezed to death, but in a good way. I press deeper, barely halfway, when Danika gasps and winces. I immediately stop moving. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” she whispers. “Keep going.”
Danika closes her eyes and bites her lip. I’m hurting her. The last thing I want to do is hurt her. I know I’m big, but I’m not horsedick big. This shouldn’t be painful. I should have loosened her up more. “Honey, we can stop.”
“Keep going, Logan. Please.” Danika wipes a tear away with her palm but keeps her eyes shut. I swallow the lump in my throat and push myself in. Band aid logic. Get the hard part over with. She gasps again and I rock my hips slowly.
After a few slow, steady thrusts, Danika exhales a moan. It’s the first sign of pleasure and my balls instantly tighten. I do my best to stay strong thinking about anything but how warm and tight she feels. The last thing I want to do is gyp her the moment things start to feel good, but I’m not going to last much longer.
I move a little harder, faster, and feel her tighten around me. She cries out in pleasure and I lose all control. My seed empties into the condom, the orgasm so intense it’s almost painful. I collapse on top of Danika, a sweaty mess but proud of myself until I look at the clock. I lasted five minutes. A new personal worst. Oh well. I ease out of Danika and sit back on my heels. “You okay?”
Danika nods and scoots into a sitting position. “Yeah just a little sore.”
I look down at the condom, to roll it off, and notice a pink hue. “Babe.” I run my fingers across her opening and swallow hard. “Are you a virgin?”
She smiles shyly, cheeks as red as the cream in my fingers. “I was.”
49
Danika
Morning light seeps through the curtains. I pull the blanket over my head, unsure of when I made it to the bed. I bend my legs closer to my chest and wince at the dull ache between them. I lost my virginity last night. I was drunk and pushy, but I wanted it. Wanted him.
Logan slides under the covers behind me, draping his arm over my waist. He kisses my cheek, the minty freshness sending a warm shiver down my spine. I may be sore, but my nipples harden beneath my shirt. I want to feel him inside me again.
“Morning, beautiful,” he purrs.
“Morning.”
His thick fingers massage
my side, his thumb rubbing circles on my back. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.” I spin in Logan’s arms and kick my leg over his hip. He’s only wearing boxers and they’re doing a terrible job of hiding his hard length.
He chuckles, kissing my forehead. “Someone is feisty.” He grabs my ass, pulling me against him and I moan, that ache pulsing through me again. “What do you want to do today?”
“You.”
Logan
We spend the rest of the week in bed, tangled under the sheets, only coming out for room service and the occasional swim at the pool. I don’t see Ria again and when I ask about her, no one knows who she is.
I don’t dwell on it long because Danika steals my attention every chance she gets. We taste, and we touch, and we explore each other's bodies. Relishing in what I’m calling the best week of my life. It’s lazy and carefree and absolutely perfect. If I could bottle up this moment and stay here forever, I would.
I always thought people were full of shit when they said having sex with someone you love is a million times better than simply screwing someone who is there. I always thought sex was sex. I liked it, but I could go without it. Now that I've tasted Danika, felt her from the inside, nothing compares. She's by far the best experience I’ve ever had. And I can’t get enough.
I thought it would be fun to squeeze in one more quickie before check out. Can you blame me? It’s like I was made to fit inside Danika. Besides, once we go back home, we have to face reality. Not only will we be forced back to school, but there’s the whole Dr. Shaffer mess. I’m not stupid. I know that mess could take months, years even, to settle.
Everything was perfect, just like the other times. But when I pulled out of her, the condom flopped like a sticky, wet balloon. I sit back on my heels and stare at my dick, willing my eyes to see something different.