by Abby Knox
“Michael, it’s not just about the money. I like you. I’ve always liked you.”
A curse escapes him. “That’s sweet of you to say. Really. But when I look at you, I think about fucked up shit.”
I know he doesn’t mean to hurt me, but that stings. “Don’t call it that. Please. It’s not fucked up. I’m a grown woman.”
“Your dad will murder me.”
“No, he won’t!”
Michael brings one balled fist to his mouth and presses it to his lips.
“I’m a man with powerful, grown-up needs. Physical needs. You’re a perfect little, I don’t know, dandelion with feelings and deep thoughts, and I don’t want to sully that with….”
“What makes you think there’s anything wrong with you—”
Some strange awareness stops me from saying another word. Something out of the corner of my eye, or a sixth sense that someone is watching. Or wanting attention. My eyes drift downward, and I see what it is that’s making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
The presence is deep pink, veiny, and protruding from the fly in Michael’s pajama pants.
I gasp again, this time in shock that this man’s rod is poking out, winning in the fight against the loose confines of the flannel drawers.
And damn me if I don’t salivate as intensely as the dampening of my untouched sex.
I swallow. “Is that…?”
He looks down. “Oh fuck!” Michael turns away from the door.
“Were you not wearing…why are you not wearing underwear?”
“I was naked before Mrs. Hurley showed up,” he explains, which explains nothing. I find myself wanting to elbow Mrs. Hurley in the ribs the next time she shows up on Michael’s doorstep.
“You could have thrown on undies before engaging with the public outdoors, you know.”
“Look. I’m hungover; I’m not thinking straight. And to be honest, before the cake hordes started knocking down my door, I was getting ready to…never mind.”
“Tell me.”
“Forget it.”
“Getting ready to what?”
“Cara.”
“Mr. Brennan, Michael, were you about to—”
“Stop.”
He’s right. I’ve made him feel embarrassed, and I hate it.
“That’s something we have in common, Michael. Well, not so much anymore since I moved back home. So little privacy. It’s been…a very long time.”
I know what I’m doing. I know it’s especially crass for me, someone who criticizes the way her sister talks. But this feels different. I know he’s looking at me differently, and he needs to know I’m grown now.
“Fuck me.” His shoulder rolls as he tucks himself back into his drawers then rests one hand high against the wall. His head hangs like he’s deep in a troubling thought, like he’s fighting invisible demons.
“Please tell me the truth. Everyone shields me from everything shocking because they believe I’m so delicate. The truth is I’m deadly curious. I have so many questions. And I wouldn’t want answers from anyone—anyone—but you, Michael.”
He responds through gritted teeth. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I trust you. I know you better than you think I do. Do you remember when you used to live downtown, and you’d see me reading in the park before school?”
His voice is raspy; he raises his head to look back at me over his shoulder. “Yes.”
I am fighting so hard to keep tears at bay now. If he knew the depths of my feelings. If he knew the things I could declare right now. “I went there on purpose, hoping to see you. I planned it out. I just wanted to be near you. I know, it’s crazy and pathetic and—”
“Cara. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”
Michael turns around to face me.
“It’s true. I’ve had a terrible crush on you my whole life. Ever since I was thirteen, I knew I wanted you to be my first kiss.”
Michael chuckles. “A lot can happen in ten years. Thank god, right?”
I hold out my hand. With a confused look on his face, he hesitantly places his hand in my palm. I take it, my body sighing at the connection to his warmth, to his rough, grown-man hands. I turn it over and trace my finger around his palm. “This was the last thing I saw of you before I went to college. You gave me a check, but I didn’t care about that. You shook my hand and held it briefly in both of yours. I looked down and….” I turn his hand over and trace the lines of veins on the back of it. “I memorized every hair, every line, every callous. I left for college, and my first ever sex dream was about those hands.”
“Whoa, Cara.”
I flip his hand palm up once more and lower my lips, kissing the tip of his index finger.
My eyes rise to meet his while I do this, and I see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “Sweetheart. You didn’t…you didn’t…wait for me. Tell me you didn’t. Not through four years of college and….”
I shake my head and move on to the tip of his middle finger, this time gently kissing and sucking it to the first knuckle.
“Thank god,” he breathes.
“I didn’t wait,” I say when I let go of his finger. “You were in my dreams every night. So it never felt like waiting. These fingers, these hands, that built skyscrapers,” I say, kissing his ring finger down to the second knuckle, “were claiming my body every night in my wet dreams.”
Michael curses, yanks his hands away from my grip, and runs his fingers along his scalp. His hair gets even more mussed in the process, making him look ten times sexier.
And the next thing I know, with those hands, those lips, he changes my whole world.
Chapter Five
Michael
* * *
I can’t take it anymore. I need to feel those soft lips against mine and that soft body pressed against me.
Dammit, why does she have to be so soft and beautiful, and so young?
I press my lips to hers gently, because if I take more than that, I won’t be able to stop myself from wrecking this precious girl’s entire life.
A simple kiss is all she wants from her childhood crush. A simple kiss, I can handle.
Cara’s lips against mine are softer and sweeter than I ever could have imagined.
I pull away from the kiss to check on her. “Okay?”
Chuckling, she replies, “I’m so happy you kissed me I might fly away.”
“Don’t fly away, sweetheart. I need you here with me.”
Our mouths meet in the middle. Surely anyone walking their dog can see us kissing if they look closely at my recessed entryway. But at the moment, I don’t know if I care. She sighs into my mouth, and it’s so sweet I might not be able to hold back the full force of my need much longer. I have to have her. I pull her tight against me, the soft diaphanous sundress sparking a strange new arousal against my bare skin.
She kisses back with lips that taste like cherries, tempting me to open her up and taste more, take everything. Take what doesn’t belong to me.
All of the reasons not to kiss her and touch her make me want all of her even more.
The way she moans softly into my mouth when I haven’t even slipped her my tongue yet is so pure and sexy I can’t stand it.
The sun is shining behind her, casting a silhouette through her sundress that’s hardening my dick like steel rebar. I’m utterly in agony, looking at the space between her thighs, wondering, imagining.
“Sweetheart,” I say, kissing her cheeks and her forehead, delivering a warning to her even as I can feel her nipples harden against me with our contact. “I don’t think you have the slightest idea what a man like me could do to you.”
“You’ve no idea how ready I am for it.”
I wet my lips. I’m so hungry to kiss her again. But I need her to know what she’s getting herself into. “Oh, are you now?” I growl, roughly hiking up the front of the sundress and flattening my palm against her stomach.
Her tiny gasp at the sudde
n contact, the widening of her eyes, adds another inch of length to my already aching cock. Not to mention the slight pooch of her soft tummy—the spot I can envision filled with my baby. I would never stop fondling Cara’s tummy if—ah fuck I’m setting myself up for more trouble by the second.
Her words fall out in a half-whisper. “Yes, I am. And I’m on the pill.”
Fuck me.
I could drag her inside, take her raw, and shut out the world. Keep the prying eyes of Fox Chase away. But once that door closes behind us, she’s not leaving again. I leave it open for now. To give her options, and to be a little bit naughty in public, if I’m honest.
“Has anyone ever touched you like this before, sweetheart?” I say, smoothing my fingers down to the waistband of her panties.
Cara’s flushed lips part; her nostrils flare. “Only you. You in my dreams, Mr.…Michael.”
My hand travels lower, discovering the front of her pussy bare.
“Next question. Why don’t you have any hair down here?”
Her eyes flutter closed as my hand massages her sensitive skin.
“It’s embarrassing, but…I sweat a lot, and it’s just more comfortable for me this way.”
My other hand props me up against the doorframe, though that hand itches to reach around, cup her jiggly bits and drag her inside. I just want to be bad a bit longer.
“Good answer. Don’t ever remove hair just because a man likes you bare. Real men know the sexiest thing in the world is when a woman feels comfortable.”
Eyes still closed, she hums a barely audible, “Mmkay.”
The contact of my middle finger to the top of her split nearly does me in. The heat, the dampness, the flush of pink spreading across her chest.
“Any man ever touch you here?”
Shaking her head no, Cara bites back a moan, egging me on farther, deeper, my greedy hand exploring her folds.
Her silky wetness is beautiful, demanding more from me. Demanding I keep going. A whimper, and an involuntary jerk of her body, give me pause. If I keep going like this, she’s going to come right here on my front porch.
Carefully avoiding her clit, I take my chances and sink the tip of one finger into the source of her heat.
“How about like this?” I ask, plunging deeper, stretching her. She sucks in a breath, and I feel her pussy clamp down around my finger.
“No, no, never. I told you I’ve been saving it for you, and I meant all of it.”
I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying things I shouldn’t say. Sweet things. Caveman things. Love things. This isn’t about any of that; this is just two adults being filthy.
It tortures me more than it tortures her when I pull out and lean away. Her eyes fly open.
Chapter Six
Cara
* * *
Out of breath and barely capable of speaking, I stare at my torturer. Have I done something wrong?
I open my mouth to speak, but he already has answers before I can voice my questions.
“You won’t like it. You won’t like the way I need it.”
My breath catches in my throat. “I want it all the ways you need it. As long as it’s me.”
“It won’t be nice. It won’t be what you deserve. You deserve a prince who will sweep you off your feet and whisper sweet nothings. My brain is full of nothing but filth when I think about you, Cara. And that’s wrong. Because you’re a sweetheart.”
I gird up my loins and say the only thing that will get through to him. “Fuck all of that. Fuck sweet innocent Cara.”
Crowding in as close as I can, I block the view of him from the waist down from the street and grab his hand, the one that was just about to make me come. I use it to cover one of my breasts. He needs to feel how hard my nipples are. He needs to know how I crave his touch everywhere.
“Sweet Jesus,” he rumbles.
“You’ve been staring at my breasts all morning. Have at it, then. Have your way with me. Take me on the front lawn for all I care. Let Mrs. Hurley watch. I’m so fucking horny I don’t give a shit about anything anymore.”
Michael’s skin looks taut around his skull, like a beast ready to explode. “So you’re saying, I can get you out of my system, and you get me out of my system, and we go back to being functional adults?”
“Yes,” I lie.
No way I’m going backward after this. I already predict everything that happens today will only make me love him more.
Brazenly, I reach out and palm his dick. Michael growls from somewhere deep in his chest, barely audible. It’s more of a vibration. His eyes take on a wild look as his dick twitches in my hand.
At this exact moment, the sprinklers go off next door at the Hurleys’ house. I startle at the noise and then laugh when I realize what it is.
Seeing my laughter, combined with my hand on his length, Michael curses loudly—so loud it echoes off the other houses—then grabs me by both shoulders and pulls me inside.
Finally, my heart cries. Finally.
His large body slams me against the closed door, his breath all over my neck. “This is it; there’s no going back out there, little girl. I’m taking everything.”
His hot mouth crashes into mine, and it feels like a million stars explode in my sky. He kisses me hard, fiercely, like a man starved of love and affection.
His hands take control of my body, one pinning both my wrists against the door above my head, the other roughly scraping up the outside of my thigh, hitching up my dress. Michael owns every inch of me he touches.
He deepens the kiss, teasing my mouth open with his tongue. I hadn’t had enough of the initial, sweet kissing, but my body is so in tune with him that it responds to the probing of his long, greedy tongue.
With his wet, warm kisses owning my mouth, his hand travels across the front of my thigh and between, urging me to spread my legs. When I do, his palm crosses over the front of my pussy, his calloused hand roughly snagging on the stretchy fabric of my lacy undies.
He groans into my mouth and breaks the kiss, both of us out of breath. His gaze is so intense as his hand brushes back and forth there, below my navel, lighting up every spark of pleasure in my body. I don’t know where to look, so I cast my eyes over his shoulder, focusing on the cake on the kitchen table. “Eyes on me, beauty,” he rasps.
He demands that we maintain eye contact throughout the next few moments of him gauging my arousal, prodding it, exploring it. It’s uncomfortable and yet hot as hell.
His fingers tug the fabric to the side, and he slips two thick digits into my folds. “Is that for me? Is that virgin pussy wet for me? This is what you came here for, isn’t it? If you can’t look at me while I bang you, then you’re not ready, baby girl.”
I jut my chin out, rocking my hips forward to increase the pressure of his touch. “I’m ready to be your grown-ass woman.”
He arches an eyebrow at me and drags a second, then a third finger through my wetness.
“A grown-ass woman who knows what her man needs. A grown-ass woman who listens? Who’s going to do exactly as I say?”
My lips ache with the need to kiss him again; my pussy throbs as it chases the touch of his exploring hands. “You know I’ll do anything.”
I let go of her wrists. “Take off that dress.”
“Easy,” I sigh with a smirk, and the yellow nothing of a dress hits the wall and floats to the hardwood floor.
Chapter Seven
Michael
* * *
My big hand captures her wrists once more above her small frame. I kiss that saucy look right off her sweet face, grinding my body against all of that nearly bare flesh.
Her arms tense up under my hold; her body wriggles. “Be still, Cara.”
She whines, “I want to touch you.”
I whisper in her ear as my middle finger that’s still inside her teases and stretches in circles. “Not yet.”
From her ear, I blaze a trail of sloppy kisses down her neck, then soak the thin mat
erial of her bra as I take my sweet time to tease each breast on my way down.
“If I let go of your wrists, and you keep your hands to yourself, I’ll give you a very special dessert, sweetheart.”
She hums her consent. “Mmhmm. I’ll try.”
I kneel in front of this tiny goddess and take hold of the flimsy red string of her panties between my teeth, and I rip them to smithereens. I shove the lacy souvenir into the pocket of my pajama bottoms, then deliver more sloppy kisses up one leg and down the other.
I have only one more word left in my vocabulary. “Spread.”
With her arms clutched together behind her back, Cara widens her stance for me. She’s such a good girl. I kiss across the front of her pussy, and she bucks into me.
I look up and notice her eyes are closed; I refuse to make another move until she makes eye contact. Moaning, she wets her lips with her slick pink tongue. Her pussy presses against my face, begging for mercy.
“Eyes on me, baby girl.”
Her eyes fly open, and my sweet, innocent Cara is transformed. She’s a wanton hussy in this moment, and I could not love it more. With our eyes locked together, I strum her clit with my tongue. My little Cara’s eyes glaze over, and her lips flood with heat. I stroke her taut button two, three more times, and her body seizes. Her cunt clamps down around my fingers, and I tease her through her first orgasm with me.
I don’t stop touching or petting her. I don’t ever want to.
When I come back to standing, I push my two wet fingers into her mouth, watching the way Cara’s mouth grabs onto them, sucking and licking, a questioning look in her eye. She needs me to tell her she’s doing it right. “Good girl. Now share it with me.”
She moans against my mouth as I delve my tongue into hers. Her tight body still shivers through the aftershocks.
I fall to my knees once again and spread her thighs open some more, tossing one of her legs over my shoulder, then the other.