Sexy Shorts

by Kathryn Nolan

  "You may look now," I said, and when his eyes drank me in, he unleashed a raw sound. Emboldened, Ambrose leaned forward until his face was buried between my thighs and took a long, lingering inhale, the way he smelled the bouquets he picked from his garden for me each morning.

  Another inhale, and I felt slightly delirious.

  "Lady Cecilia," he said, giving me a broad, teasing lick. I gasped, attempted to close my legs, but his strong, coarse fingers grabbed hold of my knees and wrenched them wide. He shook his head at me. "May I confess a secret?"

  We panted in unison beside a hot, roaring fire.

  "Yes," I managed, entranced with his fingers stroking down my legs.

  "The woman I'm waiting for?" Another inhale, another lick. Then his eyes, staring up at me from my most private place. "It's you."

  It’s you.

  Of course. And then the many small signs of Ambrose’s adoration sprang to the forefront of my memory: the daily bouquets of wildflowers. His eyes on my body as I strolled around the estate—an unending perusal.

  And every time I’d speak to Ambrose, he’d stumble over his words, seemingly nervous.

  Although there was no stumbling now.

  His head was between my legs, tonguing my delicate folds with vigor. His eyes trapped me, and then he placed two of his fingers between my lips.

  “Swallow, Lady Cecilia,” he demanded. I did, utterly captivated. My heart was a restless, wild bird in my chest, and I feared levitation. His rough fingers were divine inside my mouth, the snarls of pleasure he made only spurring me on until I was rocking against the chair and taking his fingers as deep into my mouth as they could go.

  “No more,” he finally said, and those same slick fingers glided to my opening, clenching with need. Ambrose leaned forward and seared my mouth with a kiss that left me panting. Then he dipped inside my quim, sliding along the sensitive muscles until the pad of his index finger found a small button deep inside my body.

  “Do you know what this is, Lady?” Ambrose asked, kissing along my neck as my eyes shuddered closed.

  “N-no, I don’t,” I admitted, canting my lips forward, seeking his hand. His finger moved in erotic circles against the bud, stimulating the tight blossom of my pleasure, causing it to unfurl and open at the base of my spine. Ecstasy came alive on every nerve ending from the tips of my fingers to the top of my head.

  “It’s the center of a woman’s pleasure. Her secret.” Another kiss then teeth grazing my jaw. “Although I’ve found yours. Your secret is greedy, Lady Cecilia.”

  “Yes, God yes,” I panted, rocking myself shamelessly against my gardener. With a devious glint, he lowered his lips again and brushed them against the tight bud at the top of my quim. Another button—and the two being worked in tandem sent me spiraling into a euphoria so strong I cried out. I wailed, hips shaking, legs shaking, lungs shuddering with every breath. And through it all, Ambrose watched me dutifully from his knees, talented hand working betwixt my legs.

  “Am I performing well, Lady Cecilia?” Ambrose asked, lips curved in a half-smirk, but I reached forward and cupped his length through his breeches.

  The smirk vanished like smoke.

  “I… I cannot,” he groaned, firelight caressing his handsome face.

  “Cannot what?” I taunted, fingers loosening the fabric and freeing the full, heavy length of his cock. We both watched as my fingers slicked up and down, the head fat and shining. I had been so long without a good man, and I was half-compelled to worship at the altar of this magnificent body part.

  “I cannot be teased like this,” he said. But I kept going, wanting to wring pleasure from his body—harder, faster, my fingers wet with his arousal.

  “I think you like it, Ambrose. I think you want—” but the words were barely out of my mouth before he grabbed my wrist. Stilling my motions.

  “Was I not requested for a specific service, my lady?” He glared although his lips twitched at my cheeky smile.

  “Well done,” I purred, kissing him gently. Licking between his lips and wrapping my legs around his waist. A sweet, sensual exploration of his body occurred: off came his shirt and breeches and undergarments, baring a body that was hard-worked and muscular and dotted with freckles. With one arm, he clasped me about the waist and hurled me to the ground roughly.

  “You wanted harsh, correct?” he asked, thumb stroking across my lips. I nodded once more and watched his expression turn feral. With a snarl, he wrenched my knees wide and positioned himself at my core.

  “Please…” I sighed. “Please please please.” His big hands held my waist, lifting the lower half of my body off the floor.

  And then he thrust every inch of his cock to the hilt.

  I screamed, no longer concerned with anyone hearing me during this dalliance. I wanted to be ridden, and Ambrose performed, giving me quick, forceful thrusts that had my body sliding across the floor. Bending over, he lifted my chin and took my mouth, timing his tongue with the movements of his cock. I was mindless with pleasure, my climaxes beginning and ending, breaking like waves against the shore. With a growl, Ambrose flipped me onto my belly and took me that way as well, groaning huskily against my ear, using words so filthy my toes curled. Slamming himself against me without cause or dignity, the two of us making sounds like animals. Clawing at each other, scraping and biting. Near the end, he reached forward and grabbed a handful of my curls and pulled my body up to meet his—his chest to my back. Fucked me in short, rapid strokes until I was screaming again and his teeth were clamped onto my shoulder. In the mirror, I watched Ambrose reach his own crest—face gorgeously unraveled as he chanted my name.

  Lady Cecilia, Lady Cecilia, Lady Cecilia.

  By the fire, the two of us dozed and fucked. He gave me everything I’d ever wanted in a man—gave it to me until my skin was bruised and tender and entirely sated.

  And all through the next day I wore a secret, charmed smile that refused to abate. As did Ambrose when I spied on him from my bedroom window. When evening fell, draping my estate in darkness, I sent for him.

  “Am I needed to perform your services again this evening, Lady Cecilia?” Ambrose asked, hat in hand and standing in the doorway.

  “You performed… quite well,” I said, legs crossed by the fire again. “I was pleased.”

  With a nod, he approached and dropped to his knees again. I gave him a long, lingering kiss—and when I pulled back, he was beaming at me like a man in love.

  “May I perform them for you again, my lady?” he asked, fingers already sliding beneath my gown.

  “You may,” I sighed, settling back in my chair and spreading my legs.

  The Wedding

  1

  Diego

  I was stuck in the bachelor party from hell.

  Not from an outsider’s perspective. No, an outsider would exclaim at the marvelous white sand beaches of Cabo San Lucas. The turquoise waves. The silky, sultry breeze. My best friend Jeremy had decided to give himself an all-expenses-paid bachelor party in paradise. The two of us. Our friends from college. His brothers.

  And Levi.

  That’s what made it hell.

  I hadn’t seen Levi in five years, but when Jeremy told me he was inviting our former college roommate and favorite friend Levi to be part of his wedding party, I pretended to be enthusiastic. Levi had been living on the west coast since we’d graduated, and his absence had been felt dearly—for Jeremy because he thought of him as the quintessential third leg of our triangle. Three best friends. Roommates. The person we shared poignant college memories with. Wild parties. Hellacious hangovers. Road trips and finals and late nights in the library.

  The difference being that Jeremy hadn’t spent all of college in love with Levi.

  But I had. Had even, the night before we’d graduated, semi-drunkenly declared that love to Levi. Who’d only smiled sadly and pretended he hadn’t heard.

  And it was fine. Really. I’d had my fair share of boyfriends since then. So had L
evi if Facebook was accurate. Not that I looked him up that much on Facebook.

  Okay, I looked him up on Facebook all the fucking time.

  And he’d only grown sexier. Levi Tanaka. San Diego surfer. Human rights lawyer. Rescue dog owner.

  In the five years since I’d seen him, the pining had only worsened. And now we were sitting next to each other on this white sandy beach at a dinner celebrating our best friend, and all I could do was think about how good he smelled.

  “Diego,” he said softly as soon as he’d sat down. He was wearing a white linen shirt, half the buttons open, exposing a chest as smooth as I remembered. No shoes, pants rolled up past his ankle. “How are you?”

  I paused, holding a tropical drink halfway to my lips. I wished I’d had more of these before this fateful meeting, but I was sober and sunburned and not at all prepared.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” I said, eyes locked on his. We’d never, ever, spoken about what I’d said the night before we graduated. But I thought about it constantly. “Did you… I mean, how am I? You’re the lawyer with the dog and the cute—”

  I stopped myself, blushing lightly. His lips quirked up.

  “Someone’s been doing their homework,” he teased. “And it hasn’t been that long. Only five years. Feels like yesterday, right?”

  I took a swallow of too-sweet, mango-flavored liquor. “Um… sure,” I managed. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Was it a question? I thought you just said, ‘You’re the lawyer with the dog and the cute…” His head tilted, thinking. “Cute what?”

  “Boyfriend,” I said, the mango liquor loosening my tongue. “Right? The guy you’ve been posting recently?”

  Might as well just dive face-first into embarrassment.

  Levi looked away, briefly smiling to a friend across the table. The mood was jovial, light. Reggae played softly behind us. And Jeremy looked ecstatic. Also drunk.

  “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend. Anymore,” Levi said with a shrug. “I broke up with him right before I came here.”

  “Why on Earth would you do that?” I asked. The guy had been hot. They’d looked like two male models together, posing for a GQ ad.

  “I just didn’t want…” he trailed off. Shifted in his chair until our knees brushed together. Just once, but it was enough to send blood surging to my cock.

  “Want what?” I asked. The twilight cast Levi in its periwinkle glow, and all my heart could do was beat furiously. I’d missed this man. Yearned for him. Pined for him. And in person, it was only worse.

  His eyes locked back on mine, an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Because I thought this trip might have a lot of temptation.”

  I almost choked on my tropical drink.

  “What does that—” I started to say, but then we were interrupted by Jeremy tearing his shirt off and racing into the water. The two of us burst out laughing on instinct.

  “I can’t believe, of the three of us, that crazy son of a bitch is the first one to get married,” I said, grinning as he splashed naked through the waves. A few other bachelor-party guests were starting to join him, carrying drinks into the water as they shed their clothing.

  Levi shook his head. “Do you remember when we road-tripped all the way to Miami?”

  “Slept in the car,” I mused, a shock of a memory hitting me.

  Levi and I both asleep in the back. Me, waking up early, watching the early-morning sun glide along Levi’s perfect, sleeping form. He’d woken, very briefly, and for a split second, I’d thought he was going to kiss me.

  “I puked in that bar on the beach, remember?” Levi smiled, leaning closer to me. “And you got in that fight.”

  “Wasn’t a fight,” I laughed. “Merely… a heated, drunken argument.”

  From the waves, Jeremy yelled our names. “And you better get in here with your clothes off, you bastards!” he bellowed, and I let my head drop into my hands.

  “The night has barely started,” I sighed. “We should start pulling together bail money right?” I turned, but Levi was standing up, unbuttoning his shirt right in front of me.

  “I believe we have instructions,” he said lightly, but there was an intense gleam in his eyes that stole my breath away. “Are you coming?”

  One by one, Levi slowly undid the buttons of his shirt, eyes on mine the entire time. The moment felt completely still, unbound by time, like five years of secret, private fantasies come to life. There was his smooth chest, the tan skin, and ridge after ridge of hard muscle.

  I’d dreamt about those muscles. In my fantasies, I’d tongued every one, categorized the various moans and sighs I’d wrench from Levi’s throat as I pushed him to the edge. And now, in front of me, it was almost too much.

  “Diego,” he said quietly, unsnapping his pants. His hip bones were carved by the gods. “Are you just going to stare, or are you going to join me?”

  “Where?” I mumbled, in awe as his pants dropped and he was left in tight, black briefs. It was impossible to miss the thick, hard length of a cock I’d thought about constantly.

  “Into the ocean,” he laughed, a quiet rumble. He ran his hand through his hair, looking like a male model, posing in the sand. A real-life fantasy, beckoning me into the ocean.

  “Diego,” he said again, voice raspy with desire. “You want to come, don’t you?”

  2

  Levi

  I was here to seduce my former best friend.

  It’d been a long five years, and I thought fleeing to the West Coast and dating a bunch of beautiful men would help me get over my feelings for Diego. But I had no chemistry with those beautiful men, and really, there was only one man for me.

  Diego. And those feelings didn’t wane in five years, only steadily grown stronger like flames roaring through a field. An endless path of destruction.

  When Jeremy invited me to his wedding, it was either decline and let those feelings consume me or go and see if Diego felt an ounce of what I’d experienced in college.

  “You want to come, don’t you?” I asked, reveling in the feeling of the warm ocean waves, lapping at my heels. The salty air on my bare skin. And Diego staring at me the way a starved man stares at a meal. His throat worked, eyes lingering between my legs, and I was half-tempted to stroke myself for him, right there. But we were surrounded by people, and really, I’d always thought of seduction as an elegant affair.

  Although my lust for Diego was anything but elegant.

  “Yes, I mean… um, yeah,” Diego said, tripping over his words, and his blush was as cute as I remembered. Diego had told me he’d loved me once—black-out drunk the night before our graduation. I’d ignored it because he wasn’t in the right frame of mind and I never thought he meant it. But now, watching him strip out of his shirt right there on the beach, I could feel the yearning emanating from his entire body.

  I raked my eyes over Diego’s dark skin. Swallowed a growl when he kicked away his shorts. I could make out the outline of his cock, thick and heavy, and I grew even harder.

  “Do you remember when we skinny-dipped on that road trip?” I asked, keeping my distance as he walked into the water next to me. Jeremy was yelling and jumping in the waves ahead of us.

  “Of course,” Diego laughed. “Yet another time when I swore we were going to get arrested.”

  “That was the theme of college,” I said. “The thrill of almost getting arrested.”

  Diego smiled at me, and I let our shoulders brush together. The night was luxuriously steamy and so fucking lovely.

  “So how are things with you?” I asked. “With your life?”

  Diego arched an eyebrow. “Want me to sum up the last five years?”

  I shrugged. “It’s strange, I know. Going from talking every day. To… well, never.”

  Diego looked away for a second. “I’ve really missed you, Levi.”

  I didn’t trust my voice not to crack, so I side-stepped his admission. “And how have the last five years been? H
onestly.”

  “I’m an ASL interpreter.” He smiled, and I nodded with recognition. Diego’s little brother was born deaf, and Diego had always wanted to do something to help the deaf and hard-of-hearing community. “And I love it so much.”

  “That makes me incredibly happy,” I sighed, loving the look of contentment on his face. “It’s good to love your job. To love your life.”

  Diego pinned me with a curious glance. “There’s a lot of things I love about my life. One thing missing though.”

  “What’s that?” I said, voice still light as a feather. The waves were a little rougher farther from the shore, and Diego stood closer to me than I could handle. Water beaded down his chest, and he smelled like mangos.

  “I never really met someone,” he said. “Dated plenty but… no one who caught my fancy.”

  “You’re picky,” I teased, and he laughed a little.

  “Not picky,” he clarified. “Just waiting.”

  There was a heavy pause between us, and I wanted to kiss him senseless in the middle of the ocean. A wave crashed against our hips, knocking me against Diego’s hard chest. Immediately his hands wrapped around me, steadying us.

  “Whoa,” I laughed softly, lips close to his. “Thanks for saving my life.”

  “That’s a major over exaggeration,” Diego laughed. “But I’ll take it.” Neither one of us moved away, content to hold each other.

  “Did you miss me too?” Diego asked, too sharp to let me get away. His cock was hard against mine, and he ever-so-subtly rocked his hips. A gentle thrust, but I couldn’t help the shudder that moved through me.

  “Of course I missed you,” I said roughly, feeling vulnerable in the water. I was supposed to be seducing Diego, not the other way around. “I thought about you… often,” I lied, since it was really every day.

  Another subtle drag of his cock against mine, and my eyes closed for a second. It could have been an accident. It could have been the waves. It could have been anything… except it was Diego.