by Meghan Quinn
From the nightstand, my phone buzzes with a text message. Giving Adalyn her space and time to get ready, I answer the text message.
Calder: Dude, haven’t heard from you in a few weeks. The only reason I know you’re alive is because your mom sent me an email with a picture of you, your brothers, and a girl . . .
Leave it to my mom. Calder got attached to her weekly update emails she sends to family and friends. How did that happen? Easy, she took a picture of us after one of our games, asked for his email to send the picture, and now he gets the weekly emails. He thinks it’s hilarious, loves keeping up with the Holmes. He’s told me more than once that getting the Holmes email at the end of the week is one of his favorite things ever. Sometimes he knows more about my family than I do.
The fucker.
Hayden: Yeah about that . . .
Calder: Yeah, about that. Who is she, man? She’s hot.
Hayden: Uh, she’s my girlfriend.
Calder: I’m sorry, I think I read that wrong. You just said she’s your girlfriend.
Hayden: You read that right. We’re in NYC right now, about to go to Hamilton.
Calder: What are the chances . . . we’re in NYC too. Shea is with my brother, the saint, and I’m treating Rachel out. Let’s meet up for drinks. I want to warn this girl.
Hayden: You’re still tracking my iPhone, aren’t you? You’re stalking me.
Calder: Family and friends, dude. Don’t give me the goods if you don’t want me periodically stalking you.
Hayden: Your crush on me is getting out of control.
Calder: Feed my craving. Meet us after Hamilton. I’ll get us a VIP spot and send you the details. Sound good?
Hayden: Fine, but keep your embarrassing stories about me to yourself.
Calder: That’s cute . . . see you soon.
The door to the bathroom opens, light shining from behind a curvy silhouette. My breath hitches when my eyes adjust to the light, and I can make out Adalyn’s figure. Dressed in a long-sleeved black dress that comes to mid-thigh, hair loosely pinned up, she looks . . . fuck, she looks so damn good. Light makeup, heavy mascara on her long, thick eyelashes, and a pop of red on her plump lips. Smoothing out her dress, she looks at me, her sweet seductive smile capturing me.
I rub the back of my neck, my body humming, my need for her becoming all-consuming.
“Would you mind zipping up the back of my dress?” She walks toward me, her flowery scent floating in my direction, spiking my yearning into overdrive.
“Uh, yeah . . . sure.”
She turns around, and looks over her shoulder. The back of her dress is completely open, the zipper undone to just above the curve of her beautifully round ass.
Shit, all that smooth, tan skin, covered by nothing but the velvety fabric of the dress. Is she wearing underwear? She’s not wearing a bra and I see no panty line.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “Are you wearing underwear, Adalyn?”
From over her shoulder, she smiles shyly. “Yes, it’s small though.”
Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?
Not being able to stop myself, I take a second to float my fingertips up her spine. From the initial touch, her back arches and a small gasp releases from her lips, but before I can think about stopping, she melts into my touch. Stepping closer, I place my hand on the back of her hip, my thumb pressing into her ass while the other hand explores the bare expanse of her back. Her head falls to my shoulder. Her lips part, and when I snake to the front of her dress, her breath hitches.
Eyes closed, I take in ragged breaths, my fingers inching closer and closer to her front, my cock painfully hard.
It’s been so goddamn long—and being with Adalyn has only spurred on my need—but I want to make sure we’re in a good place before we commit to anything. I want to make sure she’s ready emotionally because the minute I bury myself deep inside her, I know there will be no turning back. She will be mine forever.
But maybe for now, I can have a little touch . . .
My cock presses against her butt, she expertly grinds her backside into me, her hands moving to my neck, pulling my head down to hers. I kiss the side of her neck, using the hand that’s gripping her hips to guide her with her grinding in just the right place.
Fuck, that feels good.
I grunt, the sound vibrating over her sleek neck. My hand on her stomach, she arches, wanting more of my touch, silently asking me to move north.
And I fucking comply. Inch by slow inch, I guide my hand to just below her breasts. When I halt my pursuit, a displeased groan escapes her.
“Hayden, please.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to find the willpower. Her fingernails dig into my scalp, spurring me on as she turns her head and finds my lips.
She kisses me.
Hot.
Wet.
Needy.
Her lips glide across mine, her tongue diving into my mouth; her moans are vocal and sexy. Her delicious ass, pressing, grinding, undulating against my rock-hard cock makes me want to do so much more, makes me want to taste so much more.
Moving my hand higher, my fingertips graze the bottom of her breast. Soft. Round. Smooth. I caress her right below her nipple, never touching, just teasing . . . tempting.
“Fuck, Hayden,” she breathes heavily, her body rocking against mine, bringing on a wave of longing. “I need you.”
I move my lips to her jaw, kiss her neck, squeeze her breasts with my thumb and index finger, slowly.
In and out.
In and out.
In and—
Adalyn spins in my arms, her eyes wild, her chest heaving, her hands pulling on the sleeves of her dress.
She’s ready. Fuck, I’m ready.
“We’re going to be late,” I say, stunning myself, the words full of pain.
She halts in her pursuit to undress, her brow creased, her face falling flat with disappointment. Sadness consumes her with a hint of frustration I’m sure is starting to push her past her breaking point. Turning away, shoulders slumped, she adjusts her dress, fixing the mess I made of it. Her head tilts down. But . . . her silence speaks volumes.
Fuck.
I run my hand over my face, angry, turned on, and unsure why I’m still holding out. Maybe because in the past, most women have only wanted sex. Maybe I’m nervous once we finally do it, the spark will simmer out. Maybe I’m nervous she’s going to leave me once she gets what she wants.
But then again, it’s Adalyn, and the last thing I want to do is make her sad.
Cock throbbing, heart erratically thrumming, my body tingling with anticipation, I step forward and grab Adalyn by the waist, pulling her against me. Leaning forward, I nibble on her ear and lower my hand down her thigh to the hem of her dress. With little finesse, I drag the hem of her dress up to her hips and slip my hand into the waistline of her thong.
She stills in my arms, holding her breath, waiting for my next touch. Moving my lips to her neck, I suck on the juncture of her shoulder, marveling in the way she tastes, like vanilla and a hint of floral. So fucking good.
Her pelvis tilts forward, sending my fingers lower, across her smooth pubic bone. Fucking hell.
Kissing up her neck to her jaw, I glide my fingers farther down to her slit. With one finger, I move across the valley. She’s fucking soaking.
“Jesus Christ, Adalyn.” I pause, my breathing picking up, my cock so goddamn hard it’s painful to stand, to have her rubbing against me. “You’re drenched.”
“Because of you. Because all I want is you,” she whispers, lifting her chin, granting me more access.
Slipping my finger more, I press her clit, sliding along easily. Her moans are driving me crazy.
This isn’t going to work. I can’t do it like this. I need to taste her. Removing my hand, she protests. I don’t listen. Instead, I lift her up and take her to the edge of the bed. Reaching up her thighs, I pull down her thong, exposing her glistening pussy, so pink, so fucking ready fo
r me.
Spreading her legs, I move her dress up around her waist and slowly kiss my way up her thigh.
“Oh God,” she moans, her head falling back, her hands pressed into the mattress behind her. It’s a beautiful sight. Her nipples hard and erect against the fabric of her dress, her pouty lips partially open, her eyes shut, her silky hair dangling behind her like a chocolate waterfall.
I reach the center between her thighs, loving how aroused she is, how ready, and for the first time, I taste. Fuck I’ve wanted this for weeks, but I know what I’m like. One taste, and I’d have to be inside her body. Now? Now, I’m not waiting to taste. To take.
I press my lips against her, kiss her pussy gently, before spreading her lips and licking one long stroke up her slit. Her legs clamp around me, her body tensing from the touch. Loving her reaction, I repeat the long, languid stroke, tasting every inch of her.
Her body still tense, I lift my head and press my palm against her dress-covered stomach. “Relax, baby.”
“It’s just . . . I want this . . . so bad.”
Softening, I say, “I’m not stopping now, so relax, Adalyn.”
Letting out a long breath, she loosens up, releases the tension from her body and spreads her legs open for me. Thank. Fuck. I bring my mouth back to her pussy, kissing her gently before flicking her clit with my tongue in fast, short strokes.
Instinctively her hand goes to my hair. Her nails dig into my scalp with each stroke I make across her slick pussy.
I need relief right along with her.
Removing my hand from her stomach while keeping my mouth pressed against her center, I undo my pants and my cock springs free. I grip it at the base, and without even a second thought, I start stroking myself, using the pre-cum at the head to lube my hand.
I groan against Adalyn’s pussy, the vibration making her back arch off the mattress, her hand grip my head tighter.
I do it again. I hum and suck her clit into my mouth, pulling on my cock at the same time.
Lick, suck, pull.
Lick, suck, pull.
Squeeze.
Fuck. Squeeze hard.
I groan louder, my mouth thrumming into Adalyn. She writhes on the bed above me, her body twisting, her hands desperately directing my head, her hips moving up and down, guiding my tongue.
I place my free hand at her entrance and slowly insert two fingers. Taking her in just at the right time, she flies forward, her eyes wide, her mouth agape. “Oh my God, Hayden.”
Curving my fingers upward, I hit her G-spot and suck her clit into my mouth at the same time. Her walls clench around my fingers as she moans my name. Loud and feral.
“Oh God, yes. Oh fuck yes!” she screams, her head moving back and forth, her teeth biting down on her lip, her hips pumping up and down on my finger and my tongue.
My vision blackens, my sight tunnels in on her and her alone, and nothing else around us matters. Yanking on my cock, my hand moving at a rapid rate, my balls tighten, my stomach drops, and I come . . . fucking hard, my guttural groans mixing with the beautiful sounds coming from Adalyn.
Drop after drop, I squeeze everything out of me.
Her hips slow, her body slouches, and my mouth is pulled from her center. I leave my fingers where they are, lightly moving them in and out of her as she falls from her orgasm.
Slowly, I pass my hand over my cock, easing myself down as well, the high of euphoria eating me alive.
“Hayden?”
“Hmm?”
She sits up, her pussy clenching around my fingers again, and all I can think about is what it would feel like to be buried deep inside her. But I already know. Fucking heaven. Mind-blowing, out-of-this-world, heaven.
“Why on earth have you been holding out on me?”
I remove my fingers and sit up. “To hell if I can remember at this point.”
Laughing, she hurtles her body at mine, tackling me to the ground where she slams her lips against mine, knocking the wind right out of my lungs.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not even a little.” Adalyn cuddles into my side, holding on to the hand that’s draped over her shoulder. She’s still wearing that devil of a dress that made me lose my damn mind, but now she’s paired it with exponentially dangerous black heels, bringing her lips that much closer to mine.
Easy access, just what I like.
After we, uh . . . got off, we raced to get ready and hailed a taxi, making it to Hamilton just as the curtain began to rise. It was a close call but so worth it.
And so was scoring the tickets, because Adalyn was enamored during the entire musical. Eyes bright and a huge smile on her face, her hand never left mine.
I can barely recall what the musical was about or any of the songs, because my attention wasn’t center stage. It was to the right of me on the girl who is stealing my heart, one precious smile at a time.
The pub Calder picked to meet at is off Broadway, pretty close to the theater, but far enough away from the hustle and bustle . . . and picture-taking tourists, thankfully.
There are no windows to the front façade, just a giant neon-green four-leaf clover and a red awning covering the door. Opening the door for Adalyn, I press my hand to the small of the back and follow closely behind her. Inside, we’re greeted by floor-to-ceiling mahogany wood, neon beer signs, red-leather booths, and a bar that stretches the length of the tavern. In the back, there are some closed-off booths with high backs, hidden from patrons. I direct Adalyn to the far-right booth. When we turn the corner, we find Calder and Rachel . . . making out.
Calder’s hand is up Rachel’s shirt and Rachel’s hand is pressed against Calder’s lap. Adalyn turns her head into my shoulder and giggles as I clear my throat, loudly.
Startled, Rachel is the first to pull away while Calder is still puckered up, leaning into Rachel and feeling for her lips. Palming his face, she pushes him away and nods up at us. “Company has arrived.”
“What?” Confused for a second, Calder turns around, eyes lust-filled. “Oh shit, I forgot about you two.”
Lips thinly pressed together, I nod my head. “Good first impression, dude.”
“Shit.” He runs a hand down his shirt and clears his throat while glancing at his lap. Shamelessly looking back up at us, he says, “Uh, in normal circumstances, I would stand to introduce myself but, uh . . . kind of have a situation here, so I’m just going to wave.” He does that and says, “I’m Calder and this is my girl, Rachel.”
“It’s very nice to meet you.” Adalyn motions to Rachel’s shirt. “Um your bra is showing.”
“What?” Rachel checks out her shirt. Gasping, she whacks Calder in the chest. “You could have told me, you fool.”
Gesturing to his crotch, he says, “Kind of dealing with my own situation here. You’re the one who got handsy, not me.”
“Oh no, don’t you blame this on me, you’re the one who nibbled on my ear first and said how much you wish you could—”
“Hey-o, we have company.” I gesture toward Adalyn, wishing my friends could pull it together.
Realizing the error of their ways, they sit taller, put some distance between themselves, and wave once again, looking like one giant hot mess.
“Hi, we’re Rachel and Calder, and we’re here to make you uncomfortable with boners and bras,” Rachel says, gesturing to the other side of the booth.
Chuckling, Adalyn takes the seat closest to the wall and brings me down next to her, holding my hand. “Don’t worry about it. Before we went to the theater, Hayden came all over the hotel carpet.”
Rachel and Calder’s eyes both widen as they lock gazes with me, mirth written all over their faces right before they tilt their heads back and laugh.
Meanwhile, my face is bright red, embarrassed as hell, but oddly equally turned on and proud.
“Babe, that’s not the kind of things we talk about in public,” I say, with a light lilt.
“Oh, must have missed that memo.” Casually, s
he pulls a chip from Calder and Rachel’s nachos and pops it in her mouth, smiling and chewing at me.
“Oh fuck, man. You have met your match.” Calder claps his hands and laughs some more while Rachel leans over to shake Adalyn’s hand with pride, a silent thank you passing between the two women.
Pretty sure Calder is right. I have most definitely met my match. I’m in awe.
“Oh, I have one,” I say as I take a sip of my beer and lick the top of my lip before saying, “Rachel, fuck, chuck, and marry.” I clear my throat, “Daario Naharis, Khal Drogo, and Jon Snow.”
I’m practically giddy over my question, knowing how much this is going to kill Rachel. She is a HUGE Game of Thrones fan, throwing viewing parties and dressing up in her GOT-themed clothing every time the show airs.
Slowly, Rachel lowers her pink Cosmo from her mouth, eyes locked on mine, a little vein in her forehead twitching. “You bastard.”
Laughing, I reach over and pat her hand. “You have to answer. It’s the oath we cheersed to before the game started. And as we have all known from the beginning of this friendship, a cheersed oath is one never to be broken.” I might be a little drunk, but who’s really counting beers tonight? At least I’m not Adalyn who’s been giggling consistently since she downed her fourth drink.
“And you had layups. You just threw down the gauntlet with a fuck, chuck, and marry, Game of Thrones edition. Tell me how that’s fair.”
“It’s not, but I never said I was fair.”
Shaking her head, payback written all over her face, Rachel playfully points her finger at me. “Just you wait, Holmes, your turn is coming.”
“Bring it on.” I spread my arms. “You won’t be able to stump me.”
“Maybe not you . . .” She eyes Adalyn who’s still giggling, playing with the stem of her margarita glass.
Eyeing Rachel suspiciously, I ask, “What are you up to?”