by Megan Hart
This was so unlike anything he’d ever done. Cocks came in a lot of sizes, but they were all big enough to grip. To stroke. Beneath his fingertips was the one small spot he had to keep his attention on. This was the real challenge, and Dean wasn’t going to fuck it up.
His cock ached, his balls heavy, as he stroked her, but he didn’t move to do anything about it. He couldn’t afford to lose track of what he was doing. Female orgasms, to his knowledge, could be tenuous and easily lost.
They kissed forever, and he didn’t care. The longer they went, the better it got. He found a rhythm that turned out not to be so different than what he was used to, and the way Katie reacted–moaning softly, rocking her hips, he thought she was enjoying it.
She stiffened, her hand going to his wrist again, her mouth open beneath his but no longer kissing. “Oh…”
Dean paused, fearing he’d somehow done something wrong. “Katie?”
“Oh, god, so close,” she whispered, and looked at him. “Just…slow down a little. Make it last.”
Dean grinned, slowing his circling finger. “Like this?”
Her eyelids fluttered. “Oh, god…”
The sound of pleasure suffusing her voice sent a throb from the root of his cock all the way through it. She moved against his hand. The flush on her cheeks had spread down her throat, across her breasts, and without thinking too much about it, Dean bent to suck gently at her nipple again.
Katie cried out, something wordless and ecstatic. The feeling of her moving, the sound of her–fuck–the smell of her arousal sent slickness oozing from the head of his prick. His balls tightened. When she kissed him, he felt her clit pulse under his fingertips. She moaned into his mouth.
“Fuck me,” Katie said, not like a command but more like a plea.
He wanted to, but there was the matter of logistics. Katie blinked again, her gaze clearing for a minute, and she pushed at him to roll him off her as she reached into the drawer of her end table to pull out a box of condoms. Just as she’d figured out how to get them both naked before he could, now she pushed him to sit up as she opened the box, tore open the package and sheathed him in latex before he could do more than shift his hips. Straddling him, her thighs gripping his, Katie put her hands on his shoulders. His cock rubbed at her belly and then lower as she looked at him.
“You sure about this, sweetie?”
“Did you come yet?” Dean asked, voice hoarse at the pressure of her cunt pushing his cock against his stomach. Her ass was smooth under his palms.
Katie smiled and reached between them to grip his dick at the base. She bit her lower lip, looking down, as she shifted and then…oh, fuck.
“Oh, fuck,” Dean said aloud. “You’re so hot. And tight.”
Blinking, surprised, he let the pleasure wash over him as she sank onto his cock all the way. She was tight, and hot, and slick, too. Her cunt gripped him better than any fist ever had, and he had to breathe out, slowly, to keep himself from shooting off like a kid with his first strokebook.
Katie pressed her forehead to his shoulder for a second. “Oh. God.”
He’d never fucked in this position before, but it didn’t take him more than a second to figure out how to shift and thrust upward. His cock slid inside her without effort, and she bit down, hard, on his shoulder. Dean had never been one for painplay but that was too fucking much. His cock throbbed and he made a low, grinding noise.
“Yes,” Katie breathed into his ear. “Fuck me. Just like that.”
Soft, low, distinctly feminine, her voice was in no way like a man’s. Her body, soft and curved, not like a man’s. Nothing about this was like anything he’d ever even fantasized about, but Dean discovered it didn’t fucking matter, not then, not with her cunt wrapped around his cock like that. Not with her tongue licking at the sore spot her teeth had left. Not with her moving on him, riding him. Fucking him as pleasure built and built and built.
“Touch me,” Katie said into his ear. She took his hand, slid it between them, pressed his thumb to her clit. “Oh, yes. Right there. Like that, just like that…oh, god, Dean. Yes!”
Until this point, everything he’d promised her had been all talk. Until he felt her shudder and heard the soft sighing gasp of her breath as orgasm swept over her, Dean hadn’t really been sure he could make her come. But now Katie rocked against him and his own climax shuddered through him. Perfect timing.
She blinked rapidly and looked at him, then laughed. “Wow. Well, I guess I’d say you won. Very well done, sir.”
Dean blew out a breath, fingers tightening on her hips as his breathing slowed. “Saying I told you so would make me sort of an asshole, wouldn’t it?”
Katie kissed him lightly on the cheek and eased herself off him, stretching as she reached to snag up her panties and T-shirt. “Sort of.”
He watched as she got dressed without appearing to be the least bit embarrassed. He admired that about her. Not that he was embarrassed, exactly. Just more like wondering what the hell he’d just done.
Katie looked over her shoulder at him as she pulled on her clothes, then frowned. “You all right?”
Dean nodded, sitting there on the floor with a condom on his getting-limp dick, after having fucked one of his best friends. A woman, at that. It wasn’t his most shining moment.
But Katie, still frowning, crouched next to him and pulled over a small garbage can and handed him a box of tissues, then his clothes. “I didn’t think you’d be the one to get all emo, afterwards.”
“I’m not emo.” Dean frowned and took care of cleaning up, then pulled on his briefs and jeans.
Katie studied him. “Uh-huh.”
“I’m not.”
She smiled and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek again. “We fucked, Dean. And it was good. For me, anyway, and I’m pretty sure you enjoyed it. It doesn’t make you straight. Just…open-minded.”
Her smile urged his, even though none of this was as gratifying as he’d expected it to be. He’d thought it would feel like a conquest. Instead, he found himself hoping Jacob would forgive him.
“Damn it,” he said, suddenly miserable. “Remind me that I like sort of being an asshole?”
“Why? Are you going to say you told me so?”
“No. Not about that.”
She knew him too well, Katie did. “Ah. It’s him, huh?”
“Jacob.”
“Him has a name?” She looked impressed. “Wow, Dean. Wow.”
“Fuck.” He sank onto the couch and cradled his head in his hands. “Fuck, Katie, what did I just do?”
“Hey.” She sat beside him and took his hand, linking their fingers. “Seriously, you’re going to give me a complex, here. What happened…do you really think it was all just that stupid challenge? I mean, I know you don’t do pussy as a general rule, but…maybe that’s why you did it. Not why you suggested it, sweetie–that was all your huge ego. But…maybe it’s why you actually went through with it.”
He wasn’t getting it, and she could tell.
“What I mean is, being with him scares you. I know why. But being with me isn’t scary. Right?”
“No. Of course not.”
She smiled. “Because you and I both know that no matter how stellar that living room rug fuck just was, and it was pretty delicious, it’s not going to lead to anything. Right?”
He gave her a cautious nod. “Well…right.”
“And for me,” Katie said, “I really just needed someone who was into me. Even if only for an hour.”
“I’m into you for longer than that,” Dean told her and squeezed her hand.
She laughed, sounding better than she had earlier, which made Dean feel better. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. I do.” He leaned back against the couch cushions and stared at the ceiling. “He makes it all seem so easy.”
“It’s not how he makes it seem,” she said. “It’s how he makes it feel.”
Jacob made it all feel easy, too. Dean frowned as Katie’
s cell phone rang, vibrating the coffee table. She looked at it and sighed, but didn’t pick it up.
“It’s Jimmy.”
“Douchebag,” Dean said and picked it up. “Hello?”
“…Katie?”
“She’s busy,” Dean told the guy.
“Oh. Um, can I leave a message?”
“No,” Dean said, and hung up.
“Dean!” Katie looked shocked, but was laughing.
Dean shrugged. “Maybe he’ll think better of jerking you around.”
“Maybe he’ll never call me again!”
“Would that be a bad thing?” Dean asked. “For real?”
Katie frowned without answering, and Dean pulled her close to hug her. They sat like that for a while without speaking. Then she sighed and pushed away from him.
“Go to him,” Katie said.
Dean nodded and stood, then handed her the cell phone. “Call him back.”
Chapter 7
Katie almost bailed.
She’d waited until the morning to call Jimmy, not sure if she wanted to go down that road, maybe waiting to see if he’d call her first. He didn’t. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
It didn’t matter how she felt now, though, since she’d already called him and asked him to meet her for coffee. He’d hesitated before saying yes, a pause that had lasted a thousand years while she forgot to breathe. She wasn’t, in fact, sure she remembered to now when he walked through the door.
He looked too damned good, she thought. It wasn’t fair.
“Hey,” Jimmy said as he slid into the chair across from her with a cup of coffee he put on the table. He shook his shaggy hair out of his face and shrugged out of his coat. His grin was at half-wattage.
“Hi, Jimmy.” Katie had a mug of coffee in front of her, but she hadn’t even sipped it. It was cold now, but she clutched it anyway as though the porcelain would warm her hands.
“This is nice. Meeting like this. Thanks for asking me.” Jimmy sounded hesitant, uncertain. Not his usual self at all.
But what was his usual self? Did Katie even know? She had to admit she probably didn’t. Everything about Jimmy was late-night conversation, and just because she’d bared her soul to him didn’t mean he’d done the same.
“Thanks for coming. It’s nice to see you.”
They never talked like this. Even the first time he’d called her, they’d slipped into a loose back-and-forth that had only gotten easier over time. Now it was as though they’d only just met and had no reason to get to know each other better.
Jimmy’s smile amped up a notch, still far from his usual bright grin, but noticeable. “Yeah. Two times in one week, that’s some kind of crazy, huh?”
Katie had always believed honesty to be the best approach, but facing Jimmy across the tiny café table, all she could think of was how she wanted to make up some lame excuse for why she wanted to see him instead of just telling him the truth. “Yeah. Super crazy.”
Jimmy seemed to relax a little bit, his long fingers turning his cup around and around on the table. His knee nudged hers. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
This was going nowhere. Katie hated it. She wanted to ask him if he liked her, or if she was just some myth, a story he liked to tell over the phone. She wanted to tell him about how she smiled at the sound of his voice. Of how she wanted more.
Jimmy glanced over her shoulder toward the counter. “I’m going to grab a refill. You want one?”
Katie shook her head. “No, I’m fine, thanks.”
He touched her again as he passed. A hand on her shoulder, fingers curving and squeezing just momentarily. It was too much, the final straw, that casual touch that felt too good.
She got up without thinking, without looking back, heading out of the coffee shop and down the street. The wind burned her eyes, not tears, she told herself as her heels click-clacked on the sidewalk.
She was almost to the alley before he caught up to her.
“Katie!” Jimmy hooked her elbow, turning her as she stiffened at the sound of her name. He didn’t let go. “Hey. Wait.”
Katie opened her mouth to protest or maybe just to walk away without a word, she wasn’t sure and had no time to decide before Jimmy was kissing her. Openmouthed and hungry, his hands on her hips pulling her close up against him. He tasted better than she’d imagined, his kiss deeper, his body harder.
He pulled away, shoulders rising and falling with his breath. His gaze searched hers. “I didn’t…was that…”
Katie kissed him. Softer than he’d done, her tongue stroking his as her fingers wound in the hair at the back of his neck. She pulled a little as his hands gripped tighter on her hips. She felt the bulge of his crotch through denim against her belly, and she pulled away, her own breath coming fast and sharp.
Jimmy smiled, his lips wet. “I should’ve done this a long time ago.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I wasn’t sure you wanted something like this,” he said. “With me, I mean.”
People passed them on the street, some giving them curious glances but most ignoring them. He stepped her backward into the relative privacy of the alley and leaned against the brick wall of the storefront without letting her go. Katie pressed against him, noticing he’d run out after her without a coat.
“Why on earth not?” she cried, pushing at him with her fists but not too hard. “God, Jimmy. We’ve been talking for months. You know the color of my favorite panties and the name of my first dog!”
“I know, I know, but…hell, I’m better on the phone than in person,” he said.
Katie frowned and swiped her tongue over the taste of him lingering on her lips. “That sounds like a very bad excuse.”
He sighed, looking serious. “I know. B-but…” Jimmy paused, drew a breath. “Well, I’ll tell you. Until I was about fifteen, I stuttered.”
Katie raised a brow.
“I grew out of it, or taught myself not to, whatever,” Jimmy said slowly. “But by then I’d already found out I was better on the phone than talking to someone face to face. On the phone I could take my time or something, I don’t know. It became a habit.”
She shook her head. “I don’t care if you stutter. You could’ve told me.”
Jimmy nudged her just a bit closer into the space between one cocked leg and the opposite thigh. “I liked you the first time I met you, Katie. But then we started talking…”
“And you didn’t like me any more?”
“No.” He laughed. “I liked you more. A lot more. I didn’t want to ruin it.”
She made a disgruntled noise, already forgiving him because to do anything else would only spite herself. “You almost did.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Jimmy kissed her again, lingering this time. “Do you think we could start over?”
“Hell no,” Katie told him, wrapping her arms around him and getting up on her toes to return the kiss. “Start at the beginning? No way. Let’s go straight to third base. Unless,” she paused meaningfully, “you really are better on the phone.”
Jimmy grinned, eyes gleaming, and leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “Why don’t we go to my place and you can decide for yourself?”
“That,” Katie said, “sounds like an excellent idea.”
Chapter 8
Dean had brought flowers.
He didn’t even know if Jacob liked flowers.
Dean liked flowers, purple and red and yellow, tied with a green ribbon. He liked them in vases around his house. Dean liked flowers because they were pretty and they didn’t last long, and he didn’t have to take care of them the way he’d have had to be responsible for a potted plant.
Maybe it was time he stopped being so afraid of taking care of things.
He’d just tossed them into the bushes by Jacob’s front door when he was caught by the door opening. Jacob looked at the bushes. Then at Dean.
“Why are you throwing flowers into my bushes?”
&n
bsp; Dean tried to look innocent and knew he failed by the way Jacob’s eyebrows rose. “Uh…”
Jacob peered behind the bushes, then put a hand on his hip. “Did you bring me flowers and then throw them away?"
“Yes.” Dean’s jaw tensed.
Jacob smiled.
When Dean kissed him, it felt right. Like coming home. When Jacob kissed him back, it felt even better.
“I like flowers,” Jacob said against Dean’s mouth. “Thank you.”
Dean pulled away just enough to look into Jacob’s eyes. There was probably more to say but nothing came to him just then. He spoke with his body, his mouth using kisses instead of words to express what he wasn’t sure he should say aloud. Jacob seemed to understand, though.
He smiled against Dean’s mouth. “Come inside.”
Dean nodded. Then he smiled too as he followed Jacob through the doorway, walking behind him.
Not walking away.
THE EXPERIMENT
Chapter 1
A thousand dollars. That was a lot of money, Melissa Standish thought as she looked over the notice board again. Then one more time. She’d already walked past this notice about four times today, each time stopping to stare and ponder what a thousand dollars could do for her bank account.
She didn’t need new shoes or some fancy designer dress. She wasn’t even going to use it to take a trip, though heaven knew she needed one after almost twenty nonstop years of school. No, Melissa’s needs were far more practical than that. More urgent.
She needed food, rent, electricity. Just for another couple of months, until the semester ended. After that she’d be off to her paid internship with Triple Smith and Brown. She’d already put a deposit down on an apartment, booked her flight and arranged for her stuff to be shipped. In just a few months she’d be on her way to a guaranteed weekly income and the possibility of even more.
But until then, a thousand dollars would stretch a long, long way.
She’d done crazy things for money before. Sold plasma, which left her so weak and sick she didn’t think it was worth it. Waited tables. Delivered balloons in a tap-dancing gorilla costume. Nothing had earned her the type of quick and easy cash she was looking at right here on the board.