Sexy Shorts

by Kathryn Nolan

  I pull back, narrowing my eyes. His finger lifts my chin. The hand on my back moves lower, and he is this-close to cupping my ass on this dance floor.

  Every cell in my body screams for him to do it.

  But he stops.

  “You like the chase,” I say. “You like that I’m forbidden. The one toy you can’t have.” But I’m tilting my neck as his fingers dip to my collarbone. He slides his index finger down, between my breasts. Then back up, stroking. When he pulls me closer, he is huge and hard between my legs.

  “And that’s where you’re wrong,” he grins. Brazenly, his finger slips beneath my bra and strokes across my nipple. Just once, but the sensation almost sends me to my knees. Sam pulls his hand away, cupping my neck again.

  Like he owns me. Like I’m his.

  “We can talk about the past all we want, Doc. But I saw you first. You remember.”

  I shake my head, refusing to go down that rabbit hole.

  “Look at me,” he says, an edge of command in his voice. And I do because the last months with him have been emotional torture.

  “You’re not the forbidden fruit because that would mean I’d once entertained the notion that you weren’t mine. What you had before—” he shakes his head, still angry. “Fucking child’s play.”

  Sam isn’t wrong. My engagement had been cold, the sex bad. Sam has the swagger of a man who would give me everything I ever wanted—as many times as I demanded it.

  “That doesn’t make this right,” I try to say, but it comes out soft.

  His mouth is at my ear again. And I close my eyes, leaning against his chest, breathing in his scent.

  Loving it.

  Loving him.

  “If it’s not blatantly obvious, Doc, I’m in goddamn love with you. Have been since the first moment I saw you. And you can pretend you don’t love me all you want…”

  He pulls back, staring down at me. I want him to kiss me. I want him to lay me down on this dirt floor and take what’s his.

  I want to run away to some Vegas chapel with him.

  “I’ll make you mine,” he promises. “Just you wait and see.”

  The next night, Sam takes a bad fall at the rodeo.

  It was a bad ride all around, and he’d limped off the rodeo stage, waving away onlookers trying to help. I’d been the medic for this gaggle of rowdy cowboys for six months now, and if Sam was limping, he was fucking hurt.

  He wasn’t the kind of person who limped.

  I find him undressing in the back stable. A twitch and his shirt slides off, the intense muscles of his back and shoulders rippling. I lick my lips, and don’t even have time to admonish myself because he is turning, groaning, exposing the rigid muscles of his stomach.

  Sam is scarred and dirty and sweating and beautiful.

  “I see you watching, Doc,” Sam says, the twang of his accent causing me to squirm.

  “You fell hard,” I say, remembering the way the stallion had thrown Sam against the wall, crushing him.

  He winces but shakes it off.

  “Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t felt before,” he says, trapping me with a steely gaze. “Pain. Even a little heartbreak. All in a day’s work.”

  I clear my throat. “Not sure that’s necessary to bring up right now,” I manage as he ambles closer, dragging the cloth over his chest. Down his stomach. His jeans are worn and soft, his limp prominent. “And I need to look at that.”

  “I don’t need you to do shit, Doc,” he says. He finally reaches where I’m standing, and I have to crane my neck to make eye contact. I think he might touch me, kiss me… but he just slides past.

  Sam smells like a field at sunset.

  Flirting with him last night was a mistake. Too much history. How on earth was I going to endure another six months of these confined spaces with a man who made me feel so much?

  “You’re angry about last night,” I say, watching him roll those soft jeans down his legs. His thick, muscled thighs flex—the thighs of a cowboy. He’s not ashamed of his body, undressing like we’re lovers.

  “I’m not angry about last night,” he says, quiet as a gathering storm.

  Dangerous.

  “I’m angry that I told you how I felt months ago and you’ve done nothing but ignore me.” Sam turns back to me, cowboy hat still on, nothing but black boxer briefs hugging his trim waist. I work to keep my eyes from devouring his body.

  I was hungry. So fucking hungry.

  “You know why—” I start to say, but he’s suddenly on me, backing me against the hard stable wall. He doesn’t lay a hand on me, just stands, mouth a centimeter from mine.

  “Tell me again, Doc.”

  I tilt my chin, refusing to fall. “I’m sorry about last night,” I say, even though I’m not. “I’m sorry I led you on. I take full responsibility—” but Sam is kissing me, taking my lips the way he rides, fierce and possessive.

  I don’t stand a chance.

  When he finally breaks away, the words keep tumbling. “It’s because I was engaged to your brother, you big sexy jerk,” I hiss, but he’s kissing up and down my throat, and the world tilts on its axis.

  “Yeah? And he fucking left,” Sam says, tip of his tongue tracing the shell of my ear. “And I’m in love with you, Doc.”

  I’m definitely falling now.

  “So what are you going to do about it?”

  And after a life of thinking too damn much, after a life lived for others (the job my parents wanted me to have, the fiancé that was supposed to be safe), after years of timid decisions and over-thinking… I stop.

  Stop thinking. Start feeling.

  And what I’m feeling is my willful heart, pounding in my chest. I’m feeling a future with Sam, opening wide before me, bright and lovely. I feel like I want to kiss him.

  So I do.

  I grab his handsome face in my hands and kiss him as if the world’s about to end any minute.

  Sam wastes no time, swiftly picking me up and laying me down on the first hay bale he can find. He is on me, his big body a delicious weight, his hands like magic, his mouth on my breasts, my nipples, my throat.

  “I love you,” he keeps saying, over and over, and I finally say it back. Flip him over. Run my tongue down every single ridge of his stomach. He was so hard there, harder than anything I’ve ever felt.

  Until my fingers land on his cock and my breath halts.

  “That’s years of wanting you, Doc,” Sam groans, thrusting up into my fingers. His cock is velvet in my hands, and as I slowly guide the head to the back of my throat, he tears the hay in half. Grips the back of my neck, lost in sensation. I hum, spurring him on, and the words tumbling from his sweet lips are utter nonsense.

  Beautiful.

  His fingers slide between my legs, and I am wet for him. In an instant, he is finger-fucking me into oblivion. I’m riding his hand, sucking his cock, and the only sounds in the barn are my desperate moans. His fervent growls.

  I am going to come like this, I can feel it, but instead he yanks my head up. Swipes a thumb over my lower lip.

  “You are the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen on this earth,” he says. “And I’ve thought about fucking you every second of every day.”

  Sam makes good on his word. Laying me down. Ripping my underwear off with his teeth. Swirling his tongue around my clit until I’m nothing but a panting, sweating bundle of nerves.

  He only breaks momentarily to grab a condom, holding my gaze as he rolls it all the way down his length.

  And then, only then, does he slide every inch inside me. All the way to the hilt, hitting that spot he’d been working earlier. He fucks like he kisses, and he kisses like he rides: fiercely. His fingers brand my thighs, holding them open. I try to look away but he cups my face, making me take every second of his intense gaze. A gaze that says: you, only you.

  Sam fucks me so slowly, so deeply, so goddamn thoroughly that my orgasms come in waves, over and over, interconnected. And he is watching me come undone,
sweat rolling down his chest, muscles of his stomach trembling with exertion. He comes inside me with a roar, and I kiss him, every cell in my body alive with joy.

  After, as we’re lying together in a heap, I think about that wedding chapel down the street. So close—my future something I can reach out and take. Because Sam is what I deserve.

  I take a piece of hay, tying it in a ring around his left finger.

  “I’ve got an idea,” I say as his eyebrows lift in delight.

  “And what would that be, Doc?” he asks, taking a similar piece of hay and starting to tie it around my finger. A smile. A promise.

  Our destiny, fulfilled.

  “There’s this chapel down the road…”

  The Hero and the Rookie

  1

  Naomi

  My muscular, fire-fighting boyfriend has his head between my thighs while I try my hardest to keep quiet.

  I’d snuck over to Daniel’s station tonight, driven by a state of pure, carnal yearning. There’d been a spate of fires across the city, and he hadn’t been properly home in a week. So I’d pulled on my sexiest lingerie and slipped into his bunk.

  He’d responded by flipping me onto my back and swirling his tongue around my clit like my pussy was his favorite ice cream.

  But quiet was the name of the game since we were also surrounded by a dozen sleeping men in similar cots. A fact that should have made me feel secretive or worried or less enthusiastic about the amazing oral sex being performed on me.

  Instead… the semi-public act is making me feel illicit. One hand is covering my own mouth; the other is beneath the covers, threaded in Daniel’s thick hair. Holding him in place.

  And all around me: men.

  Not just any men. Firefighters. And yeah, I’d tell anyone that’d listen it didn’t matter that my boyfriend was a firefighter. I didn’t have a “thing” for it.

  But that was a goddamn lie.

  Of course I have a “thing” for firefighters.

  And now my talented, eager boyfriend is about to bring me to climax in a room filled with them.

  He stops, like the tease he is, sliding his big, hard body up my back. Turning me to my side, hitching my leg up and over his hip. Exposing me. His lips close over my neck as his thick, veined cock glides through my folds. One thrust, and he’s fully seated.

  We’re both breathing hard through our noses, trying to stay quiet. His soft groans against my ear send goosebumps zipping up my spine. My nipples are twisted and pinched by his fingers. And my clit massaged in slow, sweet circles.

  And in the bed directly across from the two of us, I can just make out the shape of the rookie.

  The new recruit I’d met at a firefighter’s dinner a month ago. The one with the sinful smile and handsome face. I am truly, madly, deeply in love with Daniel—but the new recruit’s eyes had lingered on my body all through dinner, and I’d soaked it in.

  Now, as I’m being thoroughly fucked, the rookie is jerking off. I’m sure of it. Can see his hand working beneath the covers.

  Maybe even hear his short, lust-filled pants.

  And it makes me wild. The covers drop away, and the rookie’s glorious body is on display, all rippling muscle as his forearm flexes with motion, the head of his cock squeezed between strong fingers. I blink, and the rookie’s head turns my way… just a little. Almost making eye contact.

  A moan slips past my lips, and Daniel chuckles, laying three fingers over my mouth. But the rookie heard it too, head turning fully now, fist jerking. Daniel is fucking me as quietly as he can, but surely every firefighter in this room can hear the bed springs. Surely every single one of them can hear me getting fucked six ways from Sunday. And it is that fantasy that sends me rocketing over the precipice. I come with tears in my eyes, watching in amazement as the rookie comes too—head thrown back, mouth open on a silent groan.

  Daniel flips me onto my stomach, presses my head against the mattress, and fucks himself to climax. I come again, still sensitive and unbelievably aroused. I bite the pillow as pleasure ripples through me, loving my sexy boyfriend.

  Thinking about the rookie.

  Later, as we spoon in the tiny bunk, panting and breathless, Daniel smooths the hair from my face. Kisses my cheek tenderly.

  And says: “Maybe next time he can join us?”

  I’m walking quickly down the winding halls of the fire station, having just brought Daniel dinner before a twelve-hour shift. We haven’t spoken fully about the other night yet—about the rookie. About the hot, electric thrill I’d gotten knowing he was touching himself as he watched the two of us fuck each other like animals.

  Or what Daniel had said, at the end.

  Maybe next time he can join us.

  No.

  Daniel and I have a hot and wild sex life, but we’d never spoken before about bringing in… a third person. A man. Did he mean what he said? Was he simply caught up in the moment? Fantasies didn’t always make for good realities. And I’m so lost in thought, turning and turning down the long halls, that I walk smack into the naked, hard chest of the rookie.

  It startles me, and as I yelp, he reaches out, steadying me by the shoulders.

  “Are you okay?” he asks with a voice like soft thunder.

  Two things. The rookie is naked from the waist up, wrapped in a towel. And wet from the shower.

  Okay, three things: I’ve never seen abs before that also had their own abs.

  “Yes,” I say, all the breath leaving my body at once. “I’m… sorry. I was just…” But the rookie is chuckling with a sweet smile, and I grin back. “You’re clearly, well, naked, so I should…”

  “I’m Carter, by the way,” he says, sliding his palm against mine. Squeezing.

  “Naomi,” I say, entranced by the feel of his fingers.

  Carter looks down, unashamed at his half-nakedness. Shrugs his broad shoulders. “You get used to walking around like this in the station. Plus, you’ve seen… a lot here.”

  I have.

  I saw this gorgeous hunk of a man come all over his stomach. Saw his back arch, his fingers flex, his mouth open on a silent moan. Just as he saw me climax with Daniel’s thick cock balls-deep inside of me.

  The walls of the hallway are subtly pressing in, forcing us closer.

  “I have seen a lot,” I finally say. Carter reaches his hand toward me, almost to touch, but then drops it.

  “Did you see me?” he asks hoarsely. I nod. His dark eyes are like two burning suns, setting my body alight. He takes a step closer, our bodies only a sweet, beautiful inch apart. “I saw you too.”

  A million responses flit through my head, and if Daniel wasn’t serious about pursuing this, then things could get really, really awkward. Fast.

  Or I could experience the ultimate sexual fantasy just as fast. Carter’s hard length is pressing against the towel, tempting me.

  I go with the second option.

  “Did you like watching me?” I finally whisper, tilting my head up at him. A rumble echoes in his chest.

  “More than anything,” he whispers back. “He fucks you good, doesn’t he?”

  “Very good,” I say. “And he doesn’t usually share.”

  Carter licks his lips then glides his palm behind my neck, holding me still. Lowers his lips as if to kiss me.

  “Maybe I could change his mind. What do you think?” he says against my mouth.

  “I thought…” I start to stumble, “I thought you just liked me?”

  Is that jealousy in my voice? Or arousal?

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Carter says, sliding away fully. Then shifting past me in the hallway. He turns his head, tosses me a wink. “I like you both.”

  I’d been teasing Daniel’s cock for whole minutes now—with no end in sight.

  “Watch,” I command as my fingers glide up and down the thick crown of Daniel’s perfect, heavy dick. The two of us are staring into the mirror, his back pressed to my breasts, and my fingers are moving slow as molasse
s.

  Daniel is a wild, coiled, panting mess—on edge and yearning for release.

  But I have a question for him.

  “Sweetheart,” I purr with another delicious drag of my fingers. The way his abs flex should be outlawed in this country. “Do you remember the other night? In the cot?”

  The two of us, fucking in a room full of men. The rookie, jerking off to the sight of my climax.

  Daniel—interested.

  Carter—interested in us both.

  Daniel struggles to keep his eyes open. “Fuck, of course,” he groans. “Think about it… I think about it… shit, I think about it all the time.” I speed up my fingers.

  “Which part, specifically?” My other hand roams his broad chest as I imagine what another set of hands would look like stroking his beautiful body. Masculine hands.

  A flicker of a grin before Daniel bites out, “When he watched you.”

  “Ahhh,” I say, eyebrow arched. “And did you mean what you said?” My hands are flying now, and Daniel is resting his palms on the wall, forehead falling forward.

  “I always keep my word, Naomi,” he growls on a ragged breath. “And I want to watch him work that perfect cunt of yours.”

  A wildfire of heat storms my senses. “I’d like that very much,” I say. “He likes you.”

  “He likes you,” Daniel hisses, and he is going to come any moment now.

  “No,” I gently correct. “Because I asked him.”

  “Oh God,” Daniel grunts, completely on edge. “Tell me.” No jealousy, no anger. He surprises me with his complete and total willingness.

  “He wants to fuck you,” I whisper in his ear. “And I want to watch you come with a cock inside you.”

  And then my hot, fire-fighting boyfriend climaxes with a roar of pleasure, shooting across the mirror, a dirty grin and Naomi on his lips. I kiss the space between his shoulder blades, desperately turned on and desperately intrigued. Daniel knew that I was bisexual, equally attracted to women as I was to men.